Knives and Wands
by LadyRavena
Summary: COMPLETE! Set in AU Book 6, Severus has spent the summer and fall trying to return to the Dark Lord, While Potter delves into the Snape's family history he discovers something that puts everything into a whole new light or dark.Not Slash! R & R!
1. Ch1

Author's Note: This will be a longish story, as it is meant to cover up to Christmas in Harry's sixth year. Thanks to the gang on the boards for fixing all the silly mistakes. Yoda, merci for shooting down many ideas that should never have been thought up. A big thanks to Mom, who listened patiently through two versions of this story and who gave me the time to write it out.

Please don't sue, as I make no money from this story and no copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 1: Oooh, Ahhh, that's how it always starts. Then comes the running and the screaming…..

Dearest Journal.

Well, back again after all that nonsense. I suppose I should be glad that Severus recommended me as sub for Potions and temp for his House's responsibility. That's probably the only way the students would accept me. He may not admit it, but the Slytherins do look up to him…even if the Gryffies hate him. Although I start to think that he actually enjoys his little games with them. And Longbottom was certainly a chance for him to extend his considerable resources.

Hogwarts is everything as I remember it, the laughing halls, Peeves, and even Albus is the same. But I can't help but think that I shouldn't be the one here. If Severus hadn't.... well, vanished into his shimmering brew, I would be back at the manor doing my own job of sorting the library the family seems to collect.

Rowena Snape sighed, closing the large black journal on her desk. The Welcoming Feast was over, the student body asleep and the teaching staff was doing any last second prep that was needed. She stood up, giving a once over the Potions lab. Everything was in perfect condition, set and ready for class. Severus was, in all things, a perfectionist when it came to do with anything with his potions. Except when it came to contingency plans, she thought.

"We will find him, Rowena," Albus Dumbledore's soft voice reached out, turning her from the window to look at him. "Your brother is a resourceful man. He is most likely curled up somewhere, brewing away, until such time as he can return to us." His eyes were solemn as she nodded.

"I'm sure you're right," she said, trying to force a smile. "Sevi always kept himself out of trouble. I'm sure--" she stopped, swallowing hard. "I'm sure he'll be fine," she finished, voice slightly rough.

Dumbledore walked across the large classroom and placed both hands on her shoulders. "You're not going to collapse every time Severus is mentioned are you? Because if you are, I'll have to hire Remus to teach Potions."

She giggled into his beard. "Remus would blow up the whole castle." She pulled away, straightening her robes. "I'll be fine."

Dumbledore looked skeptical.

"Shoo! I'll be fine." She looked at the door, then back at him, her face perfectly composed. The mask held as the Headmaster left. "I'll have to be."

Please review!!


	2. Ch2

Chapter 2: When a subject becomes totally obsolete we make it a required course.

Double Potions, Fridays. Slytherins, Griffindors.

Harry Potter et al.

She could understand why her elder brother .... um.... (Oh why mince words?) **hated** this class. With gloating Malfoy and his old school-boy nemesis's look-alike, what was there to adore? Sevi did have his limits. And with Voldmort's return, the fact that he didn't have Longbottom anymore was probably the only thing that was keeping him sane.

Oh, they weren't that bad a lot, she mused 2 months into term. Just that each class was a lesson in futility. There was no way that Luci's little clone, Draco, was going to evolve enough to brew glory, stopper death and all those other neat little things. The Granger girl had started to learn that digesting a book was not everything. Potter, of course, was only passing because Granger hissed instructions in his ear.

"Remember, do not add the thyme until the foam had reached the edge." Rowena watched the class through the steam of over 20 cauldrons. She waited, listening to the silence, only a faint shimmering to be heard.

As the class brought up each of their beakers, she murmured to Weasley, "At least you didn't blow this one up."

He gave her a wane smile before fleeing. The door closed behind him, locking her in the silence of the dungeons.

"Professor?"

She looked up surprised. Harry Potter stood at the back of the room, cloaked in the shadows. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"May I ask you a question?"

Rowena Snape felt her personal walls slam down. "You may ask, Potter. I make no guarantee of an answer," she answered, trying not to sneer.

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Where is Professor Severus Snape?"

"As Professor Dumbledore stated quite clearly at the beginning of the year, Professor Snape is on an extended assignment for the Ministry." Her voice was as cool as a zombie's, her eyes only a little more alive. "If there is nothing else..."

Potter shook his head and left without voicing his opinion. Rowena Snape nodded and quietly went back to her marking. She had taken to avoiding the Friday dinners. The hustle of the student population was overwhelming for her, she who was by choice a loner. Crowds were not her forte. She grew up with older siblings who were either at Hogwarts, Durmstang or had jobs outside the family's influence.

As she closed the door to the Potion Master's office Rowie slipped off her cloak. The rains had drenched her from her last trip to Hogsmeade. "Why can't we get a Portkey or something?" she muttered, turning to stretch the cloak over the fire.

"Sister."

She yelped. "Sevi, don't do that. At least clear your throat or something." She sank down in front of the fire.

He scowled at her nickname, but otherwise ignored it. 20 odd years and he hadn't been able to stop her from using it. One more argument wasn't going to change much. "I need you to Owl me a box of potions from my stores. The...ah."

"The creative inventory ones?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

"Yes. It seems I'm getting assignments 2nd hand now." Severus's face, floating in the fire, showed his digust with such arrangements.

"It's an improvement," she said, getting quill, ink and parchment.

"I'm not it is." He paused, and then began to list items.


	3. Ch3

Chapter 3: As if you could kill time without injuring eternity

The first day after the students had left for the Christmas holidays, Rowena walked the darkening grounds, marveling at the energy the students had. The snowball fight had been going on for well over 5 hours. She was vaguely surprised that Albus wasn't down here as well.

A flock of black birds, startled out of the forested area past Hogsmeade, flew up into the cloud-filled sky. Odd, she thought, that type migrates out 2 months ago. I should know, they were brother's favorite... one landed tamely on her shoulder...like Sevi's Lumos, his old messenger bird always had...

"Of course," she breathed. She turned and raced back to the castle, not stopping until she reached Dumbledore's office. "Candy Canes," she panted, waiting until the stair was moving before stepping on.

"Rowena, what ever is the matter?" Dumbledore said, watching as she leaned heavily against the frame of the door.

Quickly, she told him of the birds she'd seen, how the normal ones had already migrated. "—and I know it sounds crazy, but I know that Severus summoned them, then sent them to me, and I have to go to the source of them, maybe he's there or left some note or sign, or message-"

"Rowena, I want you to stop." Albus came around the desk, watching as Rowena shifted from one foot to another.

"I want you to take at least 2 owls, a full case of parchment, bandages and--" He stopped, watching the dust settle after her disappearance. "Why bother? With you, I think that you can Disapparate in the castle."


	4. Ch4

Chapter 4: That's got to be a world record for hitchhiking.

Two conjured horses, (black, of coarse, she was a Snape), filled saddlebags of supplies, and Rowena was galloping across the fields outside of Hogwarts. The compass that floated alongside her told her that she was heading north by northwest into the Uncharted Forest, a not-exactly friendly place in the evening hours.

The equines, being magically created, didn't need rest. Their gate was as smooth as a carpet ride. She set their coarse and settled in to sleep the best she could, being rocked gently back and forth.

It was their stop that awoke her. Bleary-eyed, she looked around her in the early light. The birds that had caught her eye were all around her, sitting docilely in the trees. "All right, Sevi," she muttered, dismounting. "Where exactly are you?"

After an hour, in which neither scrying, calling or summoning produced even a wisp, she sat with her back against a tree, trying to talk through the problem she had.

"Alright. Sevi isn't out in the open, which means he hasn't traveled very far today. There were no tracks except mine, which means he apparated in. He only apparates on solid ground, so he's not in a tree or in the river. He's not answering my calls, so he's probably unconscious, asleep or otherwise. Scrying's not helping, so he's using some charm to keep hidden. So, the best way to get around that is—

"Finite Incantanteum!"

A section of the forest shimmered and changed from the bushes it had been to only one bush, with a black-clad figure underneath." Severus?" she called out, moving forward, wand up.

It stirred weakly, trying to raise its head off the ground. Rowena tucked the dropped wand into a pocket. Gently, she rolled the other onto his back, revealing blood soaked robes that were shredded around the bottom and sleeves. She pushed back the hood to reveal her brother's face, chalk white. His eyes were open, but Rowie could see that lights weren't even there, let alone lit.

"We'd better get you back to Hogwarts, shouldn't we? Now, where did, oh my." She grimaced at the dropped saddlebags, then re-conjured the horses, and started to prep for travel.

"Come on, now, none of that. That's right, upright! Now, forward we go, turning left, no, not down!"

Dumbledore stopped, listening to the odd one-sided conversation. He had been prowling the castle, almost as if he were taking over Severus's habit of looking for students to pounce on and terrify. However, by midnight the only students that would be out would be a few Gryffindors and perhaps an odd Slytherin.

The voice was fading as he came out of his thoughts. He went after if, having a good idea who it might be.

The sight that met him might have been comical if I had not been for the blood that stained both of them. Rowena Snape, at five foot four, was not in the same class as her nearly six-foot brother. But somehow she had the injured man on his feet, one arm draped around her shoulders. She looked up as she heard the Headmaster's steps.

"Oh," she said, eyes wide. "Err. Evening, Headmaster."

"Good evening. And where might you two be headed?"

"Uh...." Rowena stalled as Severus began to go limp. With a wave, a stretcher was obtained, and a second wave put Severus on it. The moment his head touched the fabric his was awake again and struggling to get up.

"Oh, stay put, Sevi!" Rowena snapped, holding him down.

"Must report-"

Dumbledore overruled him. "In time, Professor. Now we must keep you alive long enough to be able to report coherently."

"Might I suggest his own chambers?" Rowena said. "You and I both know how he enjoys the hospital wing."

Dumbledore stood looking out the window in the Potions Lab, watching the snowfall. To anyone whom had just walked in, it would seem that the snow mesmerized the elder man. He was, in fact, merely putting his thoughts together. Rowena and Poppy were busy settling Severus into his own bed tonight, seeing what all could be healed by the nurse, and what would have to heal on its own. Minerva McGonagall, after making sure all the Slytherins were in the dormitory, had come down to assist.

"Headmaster?" a voice called out from behind him. He turned to see Draco Malfoy standing just inside the door, dressed in his nightclothes, school cloak thrown over top.

"Mr. Malfoy, what might I do for you at this decidedly late hour?" For indeed, it was well past midnight.

Draco closed the door before replying. "I was going to ask how Professor Snape was doing, Headmaster."

Dumbledore said, quite calmly, "What gave the impression that Rowena Snape is unwell?"

"I meant her brother, sir. He didn't look quite, well, intact, sir, when you brought him inside the castle."

"Mr. Malfoy," came Minerva's voice from the door that led to the Snape's private rooms. "I believe that curfew for the 6th years is 10 o'clock, and it is well past that!"

"Now, now, Minvera," Albus soothed. "A Slytherin's honor is a unfathomable thing for a Gryffindor to understand. I am sure that he is merely here to confirm that Severus Snape is alive and under our care so he may assure the other's of his House."

McGonagall harrumphed, but said, "He's responding well to Madame Pomfrey's spells, so off to bed now!" And with that, she took hold of the boy's shoulder and marched him from the room.

Dumbledore shook his head, chuckling. Entering the injured man's room, his mirth faded. The young man was clean and in fresh clothing, but the bruises cuts and slashes stood out plainly.

"How is he, Poppy?"

"Well, it's not as bad as it looks, but he's going to be stiff for a while. I've been mending the broken ribs, and bandaged the major wounds. But this one," she said, turning back to the man and motioning to the left arm. "The bleeding won't stop fully and the muscles in the entire arm are all contracted."

"It's meant to hobble him," Rowena spoke up from her place on the other side of the room where she was measuring out potions. "He's left-hand balanced when he duels, so it would mess up his arm if nothing else."

"And make him pass out from the lose of blood eventually."

Leaning forward, the Headmaster looked closer at the wound. The long deep slash ran form wrist to elbow, through the Dark Mark, which at the moment was a dull gray.

"I doubt there is even anything Fawkes could do. This is very powerful dark magic."

Poppy nodded and left a few instructions with Rowena. As they conversed, Albus looked over the small room, noting the shelves of books, large fireplace all lit by the two-dozen candles and roaring fire. The black coverlets that Rowie and Poppy were pulling over Severus would also add to the warmth of the room.

With a final sniff, Pomfrey departed, closing the door with a soft click. One small stone gargoyle, what Albus had taken for a bookend, glowed black for a moment before it faded.

"Brother doesn't like visitors coming unannounced," Rowie said by way of an explanation. She motioned to a chair and the two sat down in front of the hearth. She gazed back at her brother's sleeping form and murmured, "Sevi, you're suppose to be looking after me, not vise-versa."

When Albus raised an eyebrow, she continued. Albus let her talk herself out, knowing that she probably just needed a sounding board.

"Severus is the youngest male of the family, but he is still 8 years older than me. He always said that he'd look after me, as I was the baby of the family." She sighed. "But, over the years, Severus was the one in need of 'looking after'. We all took risks during the dark times, but he – he looked for them. This isn't the first time that I've had to nurse him back to health.

Rowena continued to talk, knowing that the Headmaster already knew most of what she was saying, but talking soothed jumpy nerves.

"We both went to Hogwarts, as you know, though never together. I've always walked in his shadow, even my love of potions. That stopped during the war, when he became – when he chose a different path that I did."

Dumbledore could see that her eyes were shinning with unshed tears. "When he entered Voldemort's service as a Death Eater."

"Is it public record now, Albus? Never mind," she added as something chimed.

"I have to change the dressing again." She quickly got up, with Albus following close behind. "I do hope that the bleeding has stopped."


	5. Ch5

Chapter 5: My Memory is the thing I forget with.

The night before Christmas, Rowena sat planning out lessons, getting herself read-up on possible side effects of creatively made potions. She knew she had to have at least one layer of protection when it came to first-years and amazing melting cauldrons. A soft rustling drew her attention. She got up and went into Sevi's sleeping room.

When she entered, she saw that Severus was trying to get out of bed. She settled on the edge, pushed him back down. "Well, it's about time, Brother. How are we doing?'

Severus glared up at her. "I am alive. Let me up."

She sniffed. "And Neville will be a Potion's master and take your job." She exerted a bit more pressure on his shoulders as a warning. "Be a good boy, Sevi, and you won't go to the hospital wing. Be an extra good boy, and I might give you your wand back."

Severus' eyes narrowed. "By Merlin, you are a cruel woman."

She smiled and patted his cheek. "And I wonder who taught me, hmmm?" She rose. "Now, don't you move. I told the Headmaster that I'd summon him when you awoke."

After Dumbledore arrived, he settled down on the edge on the bed. "May I?" he asked motioning toward the bandaged arm. At the other's shrug, he unwrapped it. The wound was finally starting to heal, albeit slowly. He rewrapped it, and settled it back down. He caught Severus with his eyes. "I want you tell me everything from your last letter onward. Even if you believe it trivial."

Severus proceeded. His account was brief. He had, since the summer, been unable to get near any of his fellow Death Eaters. He seemed to be blocked from Voldemort's presence, for when the summoning came, he was always thrown out of apparating midway. "I had finished my preparations and was departing the area in which I had last been dropped when someone appeared behind me, someone in front. They--" Severus broke off, his gazing shifting as if trying to find something in his mind – and not.

"What did they look like?" Rowie prompted.

"I... I don't remember. They said something – I should remember it! – But what..." Severus trailed off.

Dumbledore murmured something to Rowie, and she nodded, leaving the two. She returned a moment later with a small vial. "2 drops?"

Severus sat up quickly. "You don't believe what I have told you?" he asked in a low voice, insulted.

"This isn't the Vertiserum, Sevi. It will reveal to us whether you've been Memory Charmed, or something else."

He nodded, but Ro could still see the mistrust in his eyes. "2 drops, no more."

She dropped the dose into his mouth and waited a moment for it to take affect. Taking a pinch of purple powder from a pouch, she tossed it above her brother's head. The powder turned from purple to the telltale white, but with purple patches remaining. "A very selective charm at that," she murmured, putting both away.

"Which means that those memories are almost certainly gone." Dumbledore eased the injured man back down into bed.

"They might not return, or they may. Perhaps, for now, it is best that you don't remember," Rowena soothed. "You're less of a threat."

Severus nodded, but he was distracted, looking inward for a way past the charm. He accepted the goblet that Albus gave him with only a cursory glance. The sleeping draught pulled him into a dreamless sleep.

The two stood in Dumbledore's office the next morning. Rowena stood beside Fawkes, offering him a piece of his favorite treats. She never asked what the glowing blue chips were, and frankly didn't want to know.

Rowena finally broke the silence. "Know this, Albus. If I catch wind of whoever did this, I personally will track them down and see the rot in Azkaban. Death for them is not an option." She bowed. "If you'll excuse me." With that, she descended the stairs, disappearing from view.

"I pity those you suspect, Rowena ... and I will mourn those who are responsible," Dumbledore murmured to the empty room. Fawkes trilled softly in answer.

The snow was falling outside the window, adding to the packed down remains from the last storm. The crack in the panes let a few flutter in, caught in the candlelight, then melting, their short lives ending so tragically.

With a snort, she fixed the windowpane. "I've stayed up way too late if I've started to mourn a snowflake," she muttered wryly to herself. She got up and blew out the extra candles, condemning her marking to darkness for another day.

As she walked by the large mirror, (why on earth did Sevi keep a mirror there?) she caught a glimpse of herself. Pale skin, black hair, not exactly tall frame, she was ordinary...well, for her family at least. A normal killer, teacher and a Snape.

"At least," she said to her reflection, "I don't have the same nose."

"I could fix that, Rowena," came a voice behind her.

She smiled. "And I could make your hair match your house colours, Sevi." She turned around to see Sevi leaning ever so subtlety on the doorframe. "Still no steady on you feet, are we?"

"I am-"

"-Fine, ye, I know. 'Fine' people always lean on doorframes and loose what little colour they have when they move too fast." She moved up to him. "Bed."

Severus's eyes narrowed. "Do you think you can order me about, sister?"

She smiled. "Yes, I do. Bed. Now." She took his hand off the doorframe. "Before you fall down."

He sneered, but allowed her to lead him back to the bed. "I will be returning to teaching in the New Year, Rowena."

"Of course," she said as she unrolled another blanket. "As soon as you can make it across the room without falling."

"I am not that badly injured. A few potions-"

"No!" Rowena calmed herself down before continuing. "You're not hiding behind your potions this time. Whoever it was beat the stuffing out of you and I am not going to let you up until you're healed. Then I'll let the kids beat the stuffing out of you, if I don't first."

Severus leaned back against the headboard. "My wand?"

"Safe."

He sighed. "My wand?"

"Safe," she repeated. "Along with your lesson plans and grades," she added, smiling. "Goodnight, brother."


	6. Ch6

Chapter 6: Conversation teaches more than meditation.

The invitation lay on Rowena's nightstand, along with brush and mirror. Severus, looking for where Rowena had stashed his lesson plans, (for he was going to be teaching when the holidays were over, no matter what anyone said) happened to glance at it.

And at the signature.

L. Malfoy.

A cold knot formed inside him. Rowena would think nothing of accepting the offer if it meant finding out who had attacked him. She'd go in, thinking herself prepared.

She'd be slaughtered.

"Snooping for something in particular or just a cursory glance to familiarize yourself?"

"You can't go."

Rowena entered the room and settled on the edge of the bed. "I'm not 16 and naïve anymore, brother. I know what I'm doing."

"Now you're 32 and have no better idea than you did before." He took the invitation in his hand. "He'll not even bat an eye as he snuffs your life out."

Rowena took the invitation and smiled. "And why should he? I certainly wouldn't. And, at one time, neither would you."

"That's different."

She laid a hand on his still too pale cheek. "Of course it is." She was almost out the door when she tossed back, "But I'm still going tonight."

* * *

The Gala was well attended with various high-paid stiff necks and their significant others. Several couples had brought their children along, looking extremely bored, but hiding it oh so well. Rowena had to bite her lip to keep form laughing as Lucius Malfoy glided over and kissed her hand. "Miss Snape, a pleasure as always."

"Lucius, the pleasure is mine. We get together much too infrequently."

They moved over to the wine table where Lucius poured them both a glass of Shooting Stars Champagne. "A toast perhaps?"

Rowena raised her glass halfway. "To what shall we toast?"

Lucius looked her over, obviously liking what he saw. "To your continued beauty?"

"To your wife's continued beauty."

After they drank, Lucius continued. "But I forget, where is your dear brother? He usually escorts his little sister to these events, to save her innocence form the predators."

Rowena made he eyes go wide. 'Why, didn't you hear? He tried to get back in with the old crowd. Well, you wouldn't believe it but some members, I won't say whom, well, they didn't remember the favours that Severus had done for them. Nearly killed him just before Christmas, the brutes. Of course, Severus does want to exact…payment, I suppose, but he'd rather wait for just the right opportunity. He's not Head of Slytherin for nothing."

"Or course," Lucius replied, concern etched in his face. But there was a bit of something else there as well, Rowena noticed.

"I daresay, though, that whenever Brother does decide to strike, it will be a sight to behold." Her voice became deadly. 'And I would hate to become caught in the crossfire."

"Indeed, that would be …regrettable," Lucius murmured, tossing back the rest of his drink. "A pleasure, always."

"Do say hello to your wife for me." Rowena smiled as he left to go chit-chat with less intelligent and more malleable prey.

* * *

"My, that was an entertaining evening to say the least." Rowena settled on the bed, taking off her earrings.

"Hmph?"

She peered down at her brother. "Albus get you to tea again?"

"What?"

She smoothed his hair and pushed him back down. "Go back to sleep, brother." She paused, eying the empty goblet. "Or rather, just close your eyes. I don't believe you're awake."

"Hmph."

"Great conversationalist," she muttered as she prepared for bed.


	7. Ch7

Chapter 7: Hello, Darkness, my old friend. I've come to talk with you again.

Late that night, Rowena awoke to hear movements in the office, followed by a string of soft curses. Drawing on her night-coat, she opened her door to see Severus rummaging around in the drawers of his desk. "What is it?" she asked, rubbing her eyes in the bright candlelight; Sevi had lit every candle in the small room.

The elder Snape straightened "Where is my wand, sister?" He was very calm, voice detached.

Rowena started to answer, then froze as Severus moved his left arm slightly, as though it where paining him. "No…." she breathed.

"Where is my wand, Rowena?" Severus repeated, coming around the desk to stand in front of her.

"You can't, they'll--" She broke off, fighting back tears. "Why?" she whispered.

"Must I answer that?" His eyes were reflecting all the lights, glittering in the shadows.

"Talk to Albus first. If he…" She trailed off, shoulders slumped as he whispered, "Get him."

Albus brushed himself off, looking about the dungeon office. He noticed that both Snapes were in attendance. "You wished to speak with me, Severus?" He watched the two siblings stare at one another until Rowena finally broke the exchange.

"He's summoning me," Severus said, not taking his eyes off his sister.

"Do you think that this will be any different than the last few attempts?" Dumbledore voice was gentle; he knew that the Potions Master was still sore over his apparent lack of success.

"Do we have a choice? This could be an invitation to return--"

Rowena barked a laugh. "You think that he's going to welcome you back with open arms? Then you'd better check his sleeves for the knife he'll stick in your back."

"Think of the lives that could be saved if I was in his confidence again."

"Think of the part of you that dies every time you crawl to his feet!" She moved away, trying to compose herself. She flung up a hand abruptly. "If you want to go get yourself killed, that's fine! Who am I to stop you? I failed when you were 17, why did I think it would be any different now?" The candles were reflecting in the tears on her cheeks.

"You understand why he must do this," Albus murmured to her, stepping closer. "But no one said that any of us liked what we must do."

"Of course I understand!" Rowena snapped. "I just love the outcome." She grabbed her cloak off its peg. "I'd better see to the infirmary, make sure we have enough glue." She turned to Severus. "Under the skull."

Snape was quiet after she had left.

"You knew that she wouldn't take that nicely, didn't you?"

A nod.

"You believe that you've been tested, and are now fit to go back? This is your choice, Severus. I nor anyone else can make you return to him."

Severus stood and took the Death Eater's cloak off the other hook. "I will return as soon as I am able." Lifting the skull behind his desk, he found his wand laid out on top of the lesson plans.

"Be careful, Severus." Albus watched the man disappear up the corridor. It was some time before he rose and followed the trial of the remaining Snape.

* * *

Rowena sat on one of the infirmary beds, rolling a long bandage, tearing it apart and rewrapping it even tighter. She didn't notice anyone come in to stand at the end of the long room. All she could see was all the times that her Sevi had come home so broken that it was a wonder that she could put him together again.

"If you don't like that particular roll, I can get you another, more well-behaved one from the cupboard."

She looked down at the roll, which by that point was fraying heavily around the edges. "No, I think that I'll just beat this one up a bit more, before I put it out of its misery." She sniffed loudly.

"Is there something that you're not telling me, Rowena?" The Headmaster sat on the bed next to her. "Something about your brother?"

"Just nerves." She laughed a little. "Why I'm the one to get them is beyond me. You'd think that I'd be the steady one, patiently waiting for the next blow--" She stopped, choking on a sob.

"Child you have every right to be worried. He is all the family you have left. You don't wish to see him hurt."

"I don't wish to see him squashed like some bug on a rug!" She stood up and began to pace, nervous energy needing an outlet. "My proud, arrogant Slytherin brother would do it, too, you know. Sevi has no problem in his mind about dying for your cause."

Albus remained seated, watching her from under his bushy eyebrows. "He's also one not to back down. Something is finished because he says it is."

Rowena barked a laugh. "Nothing like a Snape for cold-blooded obsessions. Runs in the blood."

Albus nodded, eyes dimming slightly. "I don't want either of you to choke on your tasks."

"We do what needs doing. Slytherins and Gryffindors always do." She slipped past the open door of the infirmary, not noticing the shadow hiding in the corner.

* * *

The shadow moved up the corridor, stopping by a lone portrait many floors up. It whispered the password and climbed through the hole into the common room. A shimmer, a cloak on the floor, and Harry Potter stood looking into the empty room, perplexed. He understood the part about Snape not backing off; he was, after all, in Voldemort's inner circle as a yet-undiscovered spy.

But hadn't Dumbledore said that he didn't want to see either of them hurt? And hadn't Rowena Snape replied that they do what needs to be done? She couldn't be a Death Eater, she was much too young.

Unless, he realized, she was a new recruit.

* * *

Severus Snape paused before Apparating. Perhaps, he thought, his sister was right. He would, in all probability, end up somewhere else, face first in the mud, and perhaps another black eye for his 'loyalty'. Another thought intruded upon him, one of sightless eyes staring up at him, of someone lying too still on a carpet, hand still reaching—

Angrily he banished the memories. What was it that he had said to Potter? _Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked so easily…they stand no chance. _He was certainly not going to turn into a fool at this late stage in the war.

But he couldn't help but shiver slightly as he finally Disapparated from the forest.

He reappeared at another clearing, standing, and unharmed. He drew himself up, noticing a few other Death Eaters who were also late for the summons. He instantly began to settle his memories into the correct order as stepped forward into the circle, crawled ahead, kissed the hem of the robes as was required and take his place in the circle.

Perhaps, he mused, my banishment is over. A more cynical voice and sounded much too like his sisters asked: So what's the door prize?

As the last of the stragglers took their place, Lord Voldemort surveyed his followers through narrowed eyes. "It comes to my attention," he said, turning slightly now and again, "that there is a traitor in our midst."

The Dark Lord started to pace slowly around the circle, weaving in and out of those gathered. "He has been with us since before my disembodiment. A quiet little mole, scurrying information to his new owner." A low hiss escaped him. "Like some trained pet."

Nott stepped forward. "Master, tell us who this worthless bit of flesh is, so that we may be rid of the stain upon your honour."

Snape sneered beneath his mask. Anymore flowery terms and Nott might as well be a weak poet.

The Dark Lord chuckled; a high, unpleasant sound when it came from his flat face. "No, the spy will be dealt with in a more useful fashion. We need to know how much he has told and what he has kept to himself." He turned, eyes glowing ever brighter.

"Don't you agree, Severus?"

Snape's heart stopped. He dipped his head to cover his swallowing the bile that rose in his throat, and managed a "Of course, master."

Voldemort glided forward. "For the good of his fellow Death Eaters, this canker must be removed."

"You are wise, master."

"The spy must have been very good, to hide so long in plain sight. As if…waiting to be found, I suppose?" The words were a soft caress, whispered near Snape's ear, almost hypnotic in their rhythm.

"They were very foolish, master, to go against you."

"Indeed." Voldemort hissed, hand removing Snape's wand form its place, pressing it lightly against its owner's throat. "You were. Surely you didn't think that you'd get away with it." With his free hand, he ripped the mask off Snape's face. "Crucio!"

Snape dropped to his knees, body wracked with pain. He refused to cry out, though. He wouldn't give the snake that much from him. Something solid came down against the back of his head, and he fell the rest of the way down into the mud, unconscious.


	8. Ch8

Chapter 8: If you resist evil, as soon as it's gone, you'll fold.

As consciousness returned to Severus, he could feel that one side of his body was warm, as though from a fireplace. Yet the last place that he remembered being was outside in the mud… He could also feel a rug underneath him, an old fashioned one that was a series of braids and knots, absolutely the worst type to take a nap on….

…there use to be one in his family's manor…hideous thing…orange and brown and green…

With these scattered thoughts in mind, Severus slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the brightness, which was, he realized, a fire burning hotly in the grate. Wondering why Rowena would lay him out on the rug (for she must has retrieved him from outside, how else had he managed to wander indoors?) he tried to lift himself up.

He nearly screamed as the inside of his head exploded in raw pain. It was only then that the rest of the night's entertainment returned to the front of his mind, of Voldemort exposing, cursing and finally hitting him on the back of the head, presumably with the pommel of his favourite knife.

"So the traitor awakens."

Snape didn't reply. He did not think that that was what the enraged wizard would want, and begging had never been something that worked or that Severus could stand.

"Nothing to say? Well," the Dark Lord continued, "that can be remedied." There was a rustling of cloth, a cabinet being opened, a clink of glassware.

Severus quietly tried to move himself again, even if it was just to roll over onto his back. He found that beside his head, the rest of his body was immobile, held, most likely, in a body bind charm. All the better to scream with, a voice muttered in his mind.

"Lift him up, Wormtail, into a chair."

Trembling hands took hold of him from behind and pulled him roughly into a high-backed chair. It gave Severus a chance to glance around at his surroundings. The rug he had been lying on was an old fashioned braided one, with orange, brown, and green…the empty portrait of one of his ancestors above the fireplace…the chair with the serpents around the arms, digging into the arms of the person sitting in it…

"Look familiar? I thought it might be better for us to talk here, amongst the comforts of home," Voldemort hissed in Snape's ear. He came around in front as Wormtail finished binding Snape to the chair. "Leave one hand free, Wormtail."

Another chair was in front of Snape, a large armchair with a faring back, in which the other wizard seated himself. He leaned forward and took the free hand, turning it over palm up.

"I have learned that a whole man's life may be told from his palm," Voldemort continued, tracing the lines with a long finger. "His life, his career, children, almost everything about who and what he is meant to be…" He sighed. "I need more than these hands can tell me." He took a small knife from the folds of his robes and continued to trace the heart and lifelines on the captured palm.

"And you are too skilled at Legilimancy and Occlumency for me to simply delve in. I would get nothing more than the Potion's curriculum or you staring at a blank wall. I need to delve a little…deeper…" he murmured, cutting into the life-line with the tip of the blade.

Severus could do nothing but watch as the blood welled in his cupped palm, as the other took some of the blood into a vial, mixing it with a clear liquid already there.

"I know better than to try to force this down your throat as well," the Dark Lord said softly. "You have probably already taken something to negate most poisons and potions." There was a note of pride mixed in with the calmly detached voice. "So…" He poured the vial's content onto the wound. There was a hissing noise, then as Severus watch in mute horror, the mixture entered the wound and closed it behind the last drop. Voldemort massaged the hand, moving the blood in the veins.

A sudden burning soared up Snape's veins, and an involuntary gasp escaped him. It felt as if liquid ice were moving through him, freezing everything it touched. He shuddered slightly as the mixture worked its way up his neck.

"_…the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... _Isn't that what you tell your students?"

"Yes," Severus answered without thinking. The room had some of the light it had had moments ago…had a candle blown out…

"Where are we right now, Severus?"

The other responded instantly, if not a bit distractedly. "Snape Manor, 2nd floor, Isabella's Study."

"Very good," Voldemort said, patting the hand. "Now something else, a bit harder."

Snape felt as if he had been sedated with just a touch less potion than was needed to knock him fully unconscious. With a start, he realized that the liquid was in all likelihood a truth serum, perhaps the Veritiserum itself.

"Where is Potter?"

Now that was a good question. "Safe."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes. "Where is he safe?"

"Wherever Albus is."

Voldemort sighed. "You're not telling me what I need to know. Where do your loyalties rest, Snape?"

"With my lord."

"And who is that?"

"The one that I serve."

"What is his name?'

Snape swallowed hard, shaking his head.

"Answer me!"

Snape continued to shake his lowered head, then cried out when Voldemort snapped two of his fingers in quick succession. "I can't."

"Why not?"

The room had returned to its previous brightness, and his mind to its usual clarity. Severus realized that the man seated in front of him would kill him, no matter what he said. Those potions would only clear his mind for a short time before they too, succumb.

"I cannot say."

Voldemort charmed the arm back to the chair and leaned back, furious. He took Snape's wand from a pocket. " A wand knows its master. It is attuned to him, to how he works, his strengths." A paused, then: "His weaknesses."

The Dark Lord pointed the wand at its owner. "Imperio!"

The too-familiar feeling of euphoria overcame him, mixing with the truth serum. The preventative potion was swept away like dry kindling in the onslaught.

"Now, tell me what I want to know. What is Dumbledore planning?"

Severus began to recite off one of Dumbledore's more officious speeches. "He wishes to extend official ties to various wizarding communities so that none may be singled out for any-"

"Crucio!"

Severus nearly passed out as every nerve was suddenly burning. It was a hundred fold of what the normal Cruciatus curse was (and he had plenty to compare it to), as it was his personal wand that was performing it. His wand that was so attuned to him and the way that his own magic flowed through him. Those same paths were now screaming in agony.

When it was finally lifted, small noises were involuntarily from his throat. He was slumped in the chair; the only thing keeping him from falling to the floor was the magical bindings that Wormtail had put on him.

"You really don't want me to do that again, do you? You didn't enjoy that at all, did you?" The Dark Lord leaned forward and lifted the captive's head, locking gazes.

Harry Potter, cloaked against both the chill night air and Filch's prying eyes, moved quietly down the darkened corridor. He really didn't want to be caught, especially after Gryffindor had finally started to win the House points. He also didn't want to explain what he was doing out of bed at 2am again. He came up to the stone griffin only to see that it was already at the top of the tower. He felt slightly disappointed, as he'd looking forward to the delay that trying to figure out the password promised.

He paused just as he put his foot on the first step. If it were Fudge up there…but why would the Minister for Magic be at the castle at 2 am? It was probably one of the other professors, he decided. Probably McGonagall…or Flitwick.

The two sat in companionable silence, each locked in their own thoughts and coffee mugs. Finally the younger of the two spoke. "I wonder how long it will take," they murmured, drinking deep from the cooling mug.

The other's raised eyebrow spoke for them.

"For him to get up the nerve to get up here."

"Ah."

They waited a bit longer, and then drained their mugs.

"I wonder why he is waiting?"

A pause, head tilted. "Not anymore. He'll knock in 5 steps."

There was a low laugh just after Harry knocked. "Right, as always," the Headmaster said just as the door opened. Harry had already pulled off his cloak and was glad he had. The headmaster had a guest with him tonight.

"Professor Snape, ma'am," he greeted her warily. While he got along better with her than with her brother, he wasn't sure what all she knew about him, or what her brother had told her.

Rowena smiled at him slightly. "Mr. Potter." Rising, she put her empty mug on the tray beside her chair. "Goodnight, gentlemen. I'll see you both in the morning."

"Would you wait a moment, Rowena? Perhaps upstairs?"

Rowena raised her eyebrows, but climbed up the winding stair that led to the second floor and closed the door softly behind her.

"Now, Harry, what may I help you with at this late hour?" Dumbledore said as he motioned Harry to the recently vacated chair.

"It's not really help I need, Professor." Harry shifted in his chair, then plunged in. "About an hour ago, I had…well, I think I had…another visit into Voldemort's mind."

"A vision?"

Harry shook his head. "No, it was more like a snapshot of something he was seeing. Like I was seeing a photo, not a film." He stopped because Dumbledore's face had brightened with a smile.

"That's very good, Harry. You are progressing with your Occulmency lessons. You will be able to block even that with time and practice." He leaned forward in his chair, eyes serious. "But that is not what you wanted to tell me, was it?"

"No, sir. It was what I saw that I thought I should come to talk to you about."

Dumbledore nodded. "Go ahead. Start with the surroundings and work your way into the people."

"Alright," Harry said slowly, sorting his thoughts accordingly. He started with the dark room, hearth bookshelf and paintings on the wall. He went next to the furniture (desk, armchair, side table) then to the light in the room (which came only from the fire) and finished with the rugs on the floor.

"Voldemort was in the armchair, his snake curled at his left-no, right side. He looked stronger than when I saw him last, not as gaunt and skeleton like." Harry paused here, then pressed forward. "There was someone lying on the floor in front of him."

Dumbledore leaned back and wove his fingers into a steeple. "What did the person look like, Harry?"

"I couldn't tell very much. They were wearing dark robes and their face was hidden. I think that they were hurt or had just been cursed."

Dumbledore tilted his head slightly. "And what lead you to that conclusion?" he asked, as if questioning his reasons in an essay.

Harry frowned. "They seemed hunched over, not relaxed. Like they were in pain…"

"Alright, Harry. Thank you for telling me this. I want you, however to work extra hard on your lessons, to block out everything to do with Voldemort." He trailed off as the young man nodded and bade him goodnight. Disappearing beneath his father's old cloak, Harry left the office, the door seeming to close of its own accord.

Rowena, upon hearing the door close and the silence afterwards, made her way down the stairs. Looking up, Dumbledore smiled again and motioned her the rest of the way down. "How much of our little chat did you hear?"

"How much did you want me to hear? You have a permanent spying charm on the room." Rowena shook her head in mock disapproval. "Have to admit, though, that he does have a good recall. Almost as good as Severus's."

"Indeed. My thoughts almost exactly." Dumbledore sighed. "However, there is every possibility that this was sent and not seen. Harry is quite aware of that possibility as well."

"You're not worried I take it?"

Dumbledore settled back in his chair. "Severus has been gone this long before."

Rowena stared at him.

"If you wish, I will have Remus look into it. He is already keeping an eye on a few spots for me."

"One more won't hurt him," Rowena said, smiling. "Thank you, Albus."

The Headmaster waved away her thanks and offered her one of his lemon drops.

Author's Note: Thanks, Duj, for pointing out that little bit, this story had started as three different ones. A few little points got missed between my Beta and me when the final edit came down. (Actually, half of this chapter got lost and had to be rewritten from memory. Keep up the reviews please!


	9. Ch9

**Chapter 9: Whenever he thought about it, he felt terrible. And so, at last, he came to a fateful decision…**

Lucius Malfoy crawled forward and kissed the hem of the robes before backing away. Standing up, he gave his report. As a new favorite, he was given the dubious assignment of reporting any Muggle-baitings or attacks against wizarding families. When such jobs went well, Malfoy received the rewards first.

When such jobs failed…

Today's report yielded neither praise nor punishment, so Lucius remained unharmed for the moment. "Master," he added, "there has been an increase in Dumbledore's followers movement, especially in Knockturn Alley. The wolf has been witnessed in several pubs, collecting news and gossip."

"Ah, they are wondering where their pet has scampered off to." The Dark Lord turned in his armchair to regard the objective of the apparent search.

After a second infusion of Veritiserum, Snape's answers had started to dissolve into nonsense. It also didn't help that Nagini had bitten him for awaking her with his screams from the Cruciatus curse. It had taken three tries by several Death Eaters before they could force the anti-venom down his throat.

"He is not co-operating, master?"

"No, but I did not expect him to. You don't give him enough credit, Lucius. He has a brilliant mind--or had, I should say." Voldemort gave a low chuckle. "There are ways to get around his carefully constructed shields. I need the base memories of who he is, not the scrambled mess he's presenting."

The door behind them opened, admitting Nagini. She hissed something to her master, then slid closet to the man in the corner. Snape didn't move, even as the snake's head became level with his own.

"Would you stay a while, Lucius? Something has come up that needs my attention." Nagini followed her master out of room, leaving the two former classmates together.

Malfoy hesitated, then crouched down of the rug in front of Snape. From there he could see that more than just truth serum had been used on the man. Tell-tale twitches in the shoulders spoke of multiple Cruciatus curses and several bones were broken in the long, elegant hands. A particularly large flare of light from the fire revealed that the one side of Snape's chest was covered in blood, a bit of white bone protruding against the black.

"Severus, can you hear me?"

Snape turned his gaze toward the noise. Lucius recoiled slightly when he saw the eyes that had a silver film over them. The black eyes beneath the film were listless and dull. "I hear you," came the soft reply.

"You must tell him what he wants to know, Severus. There is no point in dissembling."

Snape's gazed stayed with Malfoy for a moment more, then slowly wandered away. Lucius reached out and shook the other's shoulder. "Pay attention!" he hissed.

Snape continued to let his gaze wander disinterestedly.

"You've lost it, traitor," Lucius muttered darkly as he rose to his feet. He turned away and moved toward the door.

Snape's eyes caught the firelight, clearing for an instant; his face seemed to shift into a calculating look. A moment later and his expression was blank again.

"He's a Parselmouth," he said, voice rasping from screaming.

Lucius whirled around, shock written in his features. Snape was now gazing at him, eyes clear, as if he recognized the man before him.

"What?"

"Never would have thought it, being where he is, but he is. Do you think he knows?"

Malfoy crouched back down in front of him. "What are you babbling about, Snape?"

Snape smirked. "Score one for Slytherin. I finally got one up on you, you pompous idiot. Makes up for it all, for all those years."

Malfoy snarled and stood back up. He stalked to the end of the room, collapsing on the long sofa. Too many curses, poisons and lack food, he realized, had accomplished what few thought possible: Snape's iron-trap mind had finally lost all working parts.

He didn't see Snape sneer slightly at his reclining form, or how he settled himself at the hearth side, one hand fixing his collar.

After serious consideration Voldemort decided to try another route. He entered the study where Snape had been left the night before with a large stone basin. Using his wand, he filled it to the point where the clear liquid seemed ready to spill out onto the table. From a pouch, he took a pinch of lilac powder and sprinkled it over the basin, tapping his wand against the side and murmuring, "Intellis en aqua," while he did this.

A small vial was used to collect a sample of the now-glowing liquid. Attached to a thin chain, the vial was hung about the traitor's neck.

"Now, perhaps, I will finally get the answers I need and not the gibberish that I've been shown," the Dark Lord said, leaning over the basin. There was a foggy image of the carpet on the surface of the bowl at the moment. "Severus," he said. "Pay attention, now." A flicker of one of the classrooms came and went. "Tell me about the meetings with Dumbledore, before I make an example of you."

Slowly the scene changed, presenting a blurred image. Voldemort motioned to Wormtail, who gave Severus a short burst of the Cruciatus curse.

"Now," Voldemort hissed softly. "Let us try this again. Tell me about--" He stopped as voices began to drift from the basin's contents, one of which were Dumbledore's. The Dark Lord leaned over the edge of the basin, careful not to disturb the liquid. It appeared to be a staff meeting, but only the Head's were there. McGonagall was pacing back and forth…

"_What are we going to do about those troublemakers, Albus?" Minerva was livid, and seemed to have every right to be. "My classroom was full to the brim with pixies!"_

"_They will spoken to and points deducted--"_

"_They should be expelled!"_

"—_if you can prove it was them."_

_Snape sneered from his place by the hearth. "Headmaster, we can hardly ever prove it was them, yet we always know that they are the ones responsible. Why not use them as an example, a deterrent to the other students."_

_Albus looked over his glasses at the seated Potions Master. "Severus…innocent until proven guilty." There was a slight bit of rebuke and displeasure in his tone. _

_Snape acknowledged it with a faint dip of his head, and muttered, "Teaching killers was so much easier," which no seemed to catch…_

As the memory lost its clarity, Voldemort slowly straightened, back rigid. Wormtail scurried into the far corner as his lord reached for the traitor's wand. "So," he hissed, drawing his words out. "You think—you **dare** to play games with Lord Voldemort!" 

Snape slowly raised his head, eyes clearly looking at the creature in front of him. "Riddle me this and riddle me that," he recited, tilting his head back and forth mockingly.

Voldemort shrieked a curse, and Snape felt his lower jaw snap in a dozen places. A barrage of curses, including the slicing one that Snape had enjoyed using on James when they were in school, followed suit.

It finally ended with Snape lying half curled, blood staining the rug in a dozen different places.

"Show me what I want to see, before I rend you limb from limb!"

An image flared into sharp focus…

_James Potter yanked the youth beyond the thrashing tree's reach before speaking. "What the blazes are you playing at, Snivellus?"_

_A teenage Snape was shaking, in fury or fear, most likely both. "That was a werewolf," he snarled. "On Hogwarts grounds."_

"_Yeah, and he could have ripped you limb from limb in a heartbeat if you'd gotten…"_

Voldemort turned and hurled another curse, causing Snape to black out from the pain.

He wondered as darkness claimed him whether he'd wake up again.

* * *

an: Please, if you're reading , r&r. Thanks a bunch! 


	10. Ch10

Chapter 10: A job is drawing 2-5. A career is like a life sentence with no chance of parole.

Rowena sat in her brother's office, staring at the large pile of freshly marked papers, quill dropped idly beside them. In black robes, cloak, boots and gloves, she looked like a floating head sitting there in the only comfortable chair. The chair had been in the family's little library, but when Severus took over the Headship of Slytherin he'd moved the chair along with the poison/potion section here.

"I look like a leech with my treasure heaped all about," she thought wryly to herself.

Draco Malfoy interrupted her thoughts as he knocked on the already open door. He was one of the few Slytherin's to stay over the holidays, a fact that was not lost on many. "Professor?" he asked. "You wanted to see me?"

Rowena nodded. "I did." She motioned toward the footstool of the chair she was sitting on. "Sit down, young man. I don't like craning my neck." She waited, then asked, "Do you know why I called you down here?"

Draco shifted uneasily on the stool. "This doesn't have to do with Potter or Weasley, does it?"

Rowena narrowed her eyes. "No, but I'll hear your version later. I am curious to know your plans after Hogwarts."

Draco shrugged. "I have another year left to go."

"I realize, but I wondered if you plan on following your father's path."

Draco frowned. "You mean at the Ministry?" He glanced at the open door.

Rowena ignored the glance. "I mean as Voldemort's servant."

Draco's eyes became hard, but he didn't reply. He was, in many ways, more a Black than a Malfoy, Rowena mused. Too quick to curse, too slow to scheme. The Blacks took instant offence at anything, especially the last generation, Bellatrix and Narcissa both.

"Hardly a noble or honorable way to live," Rowena commented. "Living a life of fear from behind a mask, not even admitting to the kill. Degrading oneself for a half-living creature that fancies itself a man."

"You both serve him!" Draco burst out. "Father said--"

"You will find no mark on me, boy. When and if I kill I do it with honor and skill, not with some curse a child could be taught to use."

"But—our Head--" Draco stammered.

Rowena dipped her head. "Your morbid Head of House does what he thinks he must. We will not dispute his …creative reasoning."

Draco seemed to mull that over in his mind. By his expression, he didn't come to any conclusion he liked. "May I be excused, Professor?"

"Ye—no. I want to hear your version of the goings-on between you and the golden Gryffindors.

* * *

Harry Potter darted back up the stairs before Malfoy came out or the new Professor Snape heard him. He was so intent on getting away from the two of them that he barreled into Hermione Granger. "Sorry!"

She scowled at him as they both bent over to pick up the split books. "Honestly, Harry," she began.

Harry, intent on one of the books, interrupted. "Hey, is this any good?" He hefted it a bit between his hands.

Hermione sighed. "It's alright, I suppose, for the pure-blood families, but it is certainly biased, especially--"

Sensing another lecture on SPEW, Harry quickly asked if he could borrow it. He barely waited for her consent before dashing out again. Once alone in the library, Harry took a closer look at the thick volume. Noble Wands, the title read. In smaller print: _The History of the 22 Great Wizarding Families_. He flipped to the back of the book, and wasn't really surprised not to find an index. Another flip revealed that the book was set up chronologically, from the mid-8th century to present day.

"Wonderful," he muttered to himself, turning to the first chapter. He figured he'd be there the entire night trying to find what he needed.

* * *

Rowena sighed as Draco was finally allowed to leave the office. She hadn't known the depth of the feud that ran between him and Potter. Oh, Severus had said something about the two, but this… this could result in a feud not unlike the Potters and the Snape's.

And thinking of Potters…She had known, of course, that Harry had been eavesdropping, had heard quite of the conversation, in fact. Unlike the rest of the faculty, she believed that the young man was capable of handling the darker aspects of the wizarding world. He would need everything to succeed in merely surviving the war, let alone vanquishing the Dark Lord. Only fools hobbled themselves willing.

Besides, the charm on that last test of his would make sure that harry was drawn to any conversation by staff, outside the Headmaster's office and the staff-room, that involved her or her brother.

Let him have that to chew on, she thought as she picked up her journal and headed up to the staff room.

Minerva McGonagall found Rowena in the far corner of the staff-room, writing in her journal, a mug of tea forgotten beside her. As there was no one else in the long-paneled room, Minerva tried to asked the question that had been hovering around at the also Order meeting.

"Your brother hasn't returned, I take it?"

Rowena didn't look up at the other as she straightened in her chair and took a deep breath. "No," she said at last.

Minerva swallowed, trying to think of something to say that would not be ludicrous when the young woman continued.

"Sometimes, to prove their loyalty and devotion, they were required to stay for long periods, perform a series of tasks. I'm sure," she ended, voice flat, "that's all that has happened."

"Of course," Minerva agreed. "Severus can take care of himself."

Sprout entered the room before Minerva could think of a reply to Rowena's anguished, "Not this time, he can't."

* * *

By scanning the text, Harry was able to go up to the 12th century within an hour. Afterwards, though, he ran into the Snape's every few pages. It seemed they had been involved in every battle, skirmish and argument since.

Nothing really caught his attention. He was looking for something that would explain the comment: _"When, and if, I kill I do it with honor and skill."_ It had tripped something in his memory, something from Binns' class.

It was nearly one o'clock by the common room clock when his tired eyes finally caught something of interest. A single line:

Under the joint orders of James II and the Ministry of Magic, the Assassins Guild and the King's Guard, under the command of Martimus Snape, took up arms at the Boyne River, where William of Orange soundly beat them, forcing James II to return to exile in France.

He blinked, then re-read the sentence. Which had been under Martimus Snape's command, the King's Guard or the Assassin's Guild? Harry continued to read, only after a few pages realizing that the Snape's never appeared again until the epilogue where—

… in the late 1970's, Severus Snape was awarded the rank of Potion's Master at the age of 23, making him the youngest master in over 480 years.

Harry finished the book, but found no other references to the family. Every other family of 'purebloods' was mentioned throughout. So why had the Snapes disappeared for over 300 years?

Author's Note: The Battle of Boyne River was in 1690 between James II and William of Orange, who did force the exiled ruler back to France. The age of Severus Snape when he took the master's rank hasn't been revealed to us by Rowling, so that's my guess.

* * *

R&R, people. Thanks. 


	11. Ch11

Chapter 11: Coincidence and likely stories/ They dog your trail like a pack of lies

"Hermione, what do you know about the Battle of Boyne river with James II?"

Hermione looked up at Harry from behind her usual pile of books. "Why do you want to know that?" She leaned back into the soft armchair that harry had been using the night before. Crookshanks was purring on the rug in between them.

He told her what he had overheard, voice low even though they were one of the few students in the Common Room yet. He finished off with the 300 year gap in the history and his wondering if it wasn't due to the Snape's being assassins.

"I don't know what it is with you and Professor Snape," she began in a lecturing tone.

"Besides he's an evil git?" Ron piped in from his place on the rug, quill in hand and an essay held down on the carpet.

"Professor Snape, either of them, would never harm any of the students. Dumbledore would never allow it."

"Snape's a pretty powerful wizard, 'Mione. He could fool old Dumbledore."

Hermione sighed loudly. "Right, Ron, and you were convinced he was trying to kill Harry in first year."

"Oy! Not just me. He had you convinced, too! You wouldn't have set him on fire if you weren't!"

"Only because I was too young to recognize Quirrell for what he was."

Ron laughed. "Like you recognized Lockhart for the fake he was?"

Harry sighed and left the two to their bickering. Gathering his books, he left the common room and headed down for an early breakfast. Just before he entered the Great Hall, he heard McGonagall's voice.

"I just hope, Albus," she was saying, "that Professor Snape doesn't jump out of bounds. They can hardly afford any more problems or inquiries."

Dumbledore's voice sounded tired. "Professor Snape was once one of the more active and publicly known members of the Guild, fortunately not here in Great Britain. I don't believe that an assignment has been taken on in well over 4 years."

"I just hope that the professor doesn't take on any assignments that are two big even for the Ministry."

Harry ducked behind a statue as the two passed. He didn't follow them into the Great Hall, opting for one of the rising staircases.

Somehow, learning that one of your teachers was an assassin killed his appetite.


	12. Ch12

Chapter 12: ….He decided not to think about it.

Severus Snape jerked awake when someone picked him up by the throat, grinding the broken pieces of his jaw together. He could feel his broken and bruised ribs being pushed up against a bookcase, and his feet dangled in thin air.

"Severus," a voice hissed. "I tire of these games. You were one of my better followers, you realize. I didn't appreciate your desertion."

Snape's eyes slowly focused on the voice's owner, who turned out to be standing next the weasel who was crushing his windpipe. Lord Voldemort stood beside him, another small vial in his fingers, twirling it absently. "This vial holds one dose, Severus. One dose of one of your favorite poisons," the Dark Lord whispered.

Severus tried to swallow, raising both hands to grip Pettigrew's silver hand, trying to relieve any pressure.

Voldemort continued, ignoring the captive. "You served me well in the past, so I will be generous to you now. Show me what I need to know, and this," he shook the vial slightly, "will be yours. A death of your own creation. Isn't that so much better than what I could create?"

Severus turned his head away from the vial, defeat apparent in the sudden deflation of his shoulders and the way his injured hands lay limp on the other's hand.

Voldemort almost purred when he saw the figures emerging on the basin's surface. "Coming to our senses, are we?" he murmured, leaning over the basin….

"If you set up Apparating blocks, you'll be locked in the building. They'll walk right in and kill all of you."

Moody looked at the Potion's Master. "Really? And if we don't they'll pop right in!"

Snape sneered. "Put them up and neither can any Auror. We are trained to attack on foot. Are you?"

Moody opened his mouth several times before words came out. "Oh, so now its…"

The memory faded. Voldemort turned to see Snape hanging limply from Wormtail's grasp.

"Put him down, Wormtail," he abolished.

A moment later the memory flared into sharp focus as Snape was dropped to the floor unceremoniously. Wormtail inched forward to see the images as well….

"Oh, so now its us and them now, huh? I thought you worked for the Ministry?"

Snape snorted and leaned back in his chair. "I 'work' for the Headmaster as his potion's teacher. Not for you."

"Gentleman," Albus interrupted. "Back to the task at hand. Which direction will they come in from the most?"

"West, just before sunset."

"Cliché," Moody muttered.

"Practical," Snape snapped. Calming himself, he added, "You cannot see very well looking into the light; with the shadows covering our faces it will be the perfect cover."

"Numbers?"

"There should be …at… least…"

The memory shifted for an instant, flicking to an image of Snape's lab, of bottles being sorted. It returned almost immediately back to the meeting.

"Numbers?"

"There should be at least--"

The memory abruptly died, nothing but blackness replacing it. "Master," Wormtail said, alarm slowly making its way into his voice. "I think he's dying."

Voldemort picked up the traitor's wand and pointed it at the limp form. "Enervate."

The spy's eyes half opened. Glancing back, Voldemort saw the basin's surface glowing then fading and again glowing. Intrigued despite himself, Voldemort returned to the basin to see what went through the broken mind…

The dungeons, students seated. "Mr. Longbottom, are you naturally this wittless, or are you trying to send me to an early grave?" He turned…

…facing the Headmaster. "The werewolf will be teaching here? You want me to get mauled?" He closed his eyes…

…wondering whether or not Black was in the Dark Lord's service, how else could he have escaped—Potter! It was…

…Harry, my son," Lily smiled. "He has my eyes at least. He's only 2 monthes…"

…into his service as a death eater, he killed for his first time, the man had 3 kids, a house…

…he'd be sorted into, the hat took a long time to decide, before calling out, unsure, "Slytherin…

…heir has struck again," Dumbledore said. "An I have no better idea this time than the last…

…Defense teacher stripped my office to the bare walls! What next, a harpy? At least Quirrell had the training before he rented his spine out…

…the open door, the monster lunged forward, a hand knocking him back…

…onto his heals, the hissing words making his blood stop…

…running from the Ministry Aurors that were coming…

…into Hogwarts for the first time…

…he returned to the circle as if nothing…

…nothing…

…

The basin slowly cleared. For a moment the blood-stained carpet flickered into view, then it too faded into clarity.

Voldemort turned around slowly. Before he could form any words, Wormtail had taken his hand away from the spy's throat and said, "He's dead, master."

Voldemort stood completely still for a long moment, in which nothing seemed to move in the room. With a snarl, he whirled and back-handed the basin against the far wall. Cringing, Wormtail watched the glowing liquid slide down the wall's surface. He cringed even more when his lord threw the traitor's wand into the grate, opened the door, stepped out into the hall and said, "Come, Wormtail."

Wormtail obeyed, but glanced over his shoulder. "What is to be done with him, master?"

Voldemort slammed the door behind them both and made his way down into the deserted entrance. "Leave him. He's of no use to me now." He continued to the dusty hearth. "I have business elsewhere." He took a handful of glittering powder, tossed it into the hearth and called out, "Malfoy Manor."

* * *

AN: I hope that last scene with Snape's memory is comprehensible. It's very strange to read that part aloud, as that's how I do a lot of my editing. Chapter 13 is coming soon! 


	13. Ch13

Chapter Thirteen: Their tongues are silver forks/There's a lack of wisdom, you can here it on their breath

A fresh invitation sat on Rowena's desk, green was seal unbroken. She sat in the desk's high stool, the one without a back on it. She had teased Severus about his bad posture once, and afterwards, every chair (save the armchair) had been replaced with hard backed chairs and stools.

She finally took the invitation in hand and broke the seal. The familiar writing jumped out at her, bold and harsh of line. She read over the contents, then penned a short reply. The owl that waited in the window took the offered letter and departed. Rowena held the discarded envelope in her hands for a long, silent moment, then in a second, tore the thing to shreds.

As she dressed, she quietly took stock of her brother's various vials. Severus kept several poisons in small black vials, unmarked and illegal. Most did not even need to be ingested to have affected. Even breaking them open on the floor was enough for one to kill off the entire room. Once her dress's many layers were in place, she slipped a few into small little pockets. Her wand slipped into another.

"Don't trust your fellow wizards?" Albus Dumbledore stood framed in the door, hold her cloak over his arm.

"This?" she asked, holding up a final vial. "It's here to put me out of my misery during Fudge's speech." She pulled out a long velvet box. Inside were a pair of identical knives, thin and plain. "Now, these…" One disappeared up a sleeve, the other into a hole in a side dart.

Dumbledore shook his head sadly when she took the cloak from him and swung it over her shoulders. She stood on tip-toes and kissed the furry cheek. "Don't worry, grand-papa," she teased. "I'll be home before midnight."

* * *

The New Year's ball couldn't have been any duller. After a 35 minute speech by Fudge (those poisons were really looking good), the dinner had followed. She thought that the House Elves had outdone themselves for the sheer blandness of the food.

"Let my old taste buds soon forget / the taste of this here food," she sang softy to herself, while she played with her wineglass. Several couples were already dancing out on the floor, and Rowena briefly regretted not dragging someone along as a partner.

Three newcomers caught her eye. Lucius Malfoy, with Thug One and Thug Two. Lucius's ever-present sneer was in place, until he locked gazes with her. Then a quick look of glee came over him before being replaced by sadness. Oh, here we go, she thought to herself as the snake slithered over. What lies will come from thy forked tongue?

"I am surprised to see you celebrating, Miss Snape," he said as he slipped into the empty seat next to her.

Rowena narrowed her eyes, and said, "I don't follow you."

Lucius frowned. "Why, I heard that your dear brother was past on, or very nearly."

Rowena tilted her head. "Wherever did you hear that? I assure you, Severus was still his fighting self when I left."

Lucius sneered slightly, his version of a smile, Rowena supposed. "Word is out in a few of the shadier areas he frequented that he was killed, some say by the Dark Lord. I am overjoyed that they were wrong."

"Of course they are wrong, Lucius. It takes quite a lot to knock one of us of the playing field."

Malfoy stood up briskly. "Again, always a pleasure to chat, Miss Snape. My regards to your brother." He started to move away.

"Lucius," she called out, rising slightly. "Where did rumor have it that my brother died? Surely not in duel; I would have heard about it if that was the case."

He turned, eyes cold. "Why, at Snape Manor." He paused, waiting to see her reaction. When she only smiled and shook her head, he made his way out of the hall.

* * *

"Could he have been telling the truth, do you think?" Remus Lupin asked later that evening in the Headmaster's office.

Rowena, still coifed and bejeweled, sat in one of the armchairs and absently swirled a last bit of wine in the fluted glass. "Hardly. Severus never goes to the manor. He hates it there." She paused, for a moment, then shook her head. "I can't see any reason why he would go there. It's been closed off since August. Even Giltz came with me."

"Giltz?" Remus asked.

"The house-elf of my family. Ancient thing." Rowena shook her head. "Even worse than Kretcher for cleaning."

Lupin smiled wanly, but didn't say anything.

Dumbledore shifted uncomfortably, but continued on. "Is there any news, from Arthur or yourself?"

Remus brought his eyes up to meet the Headmaster's. "Nothing new. I caught the same , rumor about him being dead this morning. Arthur hasn't heard anything, either. We're drawing blanks, here, there--"

"--everywhere, over hill and under hill…" Rowena muttered, before tossing down the rest of the wine. "Good night, gentleman," she added before swept from the office.

"You don't think that Severus is already dead and they've dropped the body somewhere?" Lupin asked quietly.

"We would have heard about it by now," Albus murmured.

"Unless they want to make us uncertain, doubt our own information."

"Games within games, that was Tom's specialty in school. We could second-guess everything from where he plans to strike next, to our own names. It would only succeed in dividing us more than we already are."

Lupin sighed, rising. "I take it Durmstang is still not responding to overtures?"

"That is a delicate way of putting it, Professor Lupin."

* * *

Author's Note: The Over hill and under hill is a reference to Bilbo Baggins' name game with Smaug in "The Hobbit" by J.R.R. Tolkien. 


	14. Ch14

Chapter 14: Practical politics consists in ignoring facts.

The staff room was abuzz with a full-blown debate as to which Quidditch team would win the cup. For a change, Ravenclaw's Head of house was supporting Slytherin's team. "Without Potter's help," Flitwick squeaked, "the Gryffindors lack heart--"

"Gryffindors have plenty of heart!" Minerva squawked from her chair by the fire. "Especially now that Potter is personally coaching Miss Weasley."

"A trainer who cannot fly and can only lecture. Hardly an awe-inspiring figure," Sinistra murmured from her mug.

Rowena rolled her eyes and went back to the mass of paperwork in front of her, most of which were undecipherable due to her brother's atrocious handwrit…hand-scrawl. The debate around her would probably end with a semi-friendly wager, and she would be asked to put her two Knuts in. She would, of course, support her old house.

She became so absorbed in her paper solitaire in front of her that she didn't notice when the Headmaster entered the room, followed by the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Only when the Headmaster bent down behind her and whispered, "Professor?" lightly in her ear, did she notice them.

"Hello, Headmaster, Minister. Is there something I can do for you, sir?"

Fudge shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Come think of it, Rowena mused, he did nearly everything uncomfortably. She had never respected the man, and being from a family that habitually did the opposite of current government policy hadn't helped Fudge to climb in her estimation. "With the return of…" Fudge started, then swallowed visibly.

"Yes, with his return?" she prompted.

"Well, it has come…it has been brought to our attention…the elder students need to…informed I should think about him…and his allies, of course…Under, of course, a proper Ministry approved instructor," Fudge added, gaining stride. "In a proper school setting and being told the official knowledge of Lord…him."

Rowena had to sort that out for a moment before summarizing, "You want me to give a lecture on Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters?"

"Well, yes…and--"

Rowena straightened up, whish really didn't do anything, as both men were quite a bit taller than her. "And why me in particular?"

Fudge started to stammer even worse than he already was. "You are…uh…are.. w-well um, best-best qualified…"

Albus was smiling into his beard by this time, but came in to rescue of the younger man. "You have a great deal of knowledge to share with the students, better than anyone else just spitting out words. You will actually know what you are talking about, so the students will listen."

Fudge nodded enthusiastically behind the Headmaster.

"Fine. Monday night?"

"An excellent idea! Start it right away. I believe, Minister, you wished to give Rowena the contents of the lecture."

Fudge pulled out a small scroll. "These are the main points. Feel free to phrase it however you will." He handed it her.

She read over the short list. "Brief."

"Concise," Fudge corrected. "A nice basic idea for the young ones. 30 minutes or so."

"Or so," she agreed, placing it on the desk.

"Well, shall we go? Leave Miss Snape to her marking."

"A pleasure as always, sirs." She waited until the doors closed behind the two before she picked the scroll back up. She laughed at it softly, muttering, "The tabloids do a better job than this." She tossed it into the fire. Gathering up her papers, she left the staffroom and deposited them in the office before coming back up lunch.

She was just stepping into the Entrance Hall when two owls flew past her and dropped two letters onto her head. Sighing, she paused and opened one.

_We wish to extend our condolences on the death of Severus Snape. We think of you in your…_

"Whatever," Rowena muttered, opening the second letter.

_We were dismayed to hear of your brother's death…_

"What is this, death by vote?" She tucked both of the letters into her cloak pocket and headed out onto the grounds for lunch with Hagrid. He had a few interesting looking creatures she'd never heard of that he was teaching the children to take of. She wanted to see the one that Nott had described as "a cat with a crab for a head."

Halfway across the snow-filled lawns, Hagrid's door opened to reveal Remus Lupin talking animatedly with the gamekeeper. He broke off when he saw her approaching and made his way down to her. "I've been looking for you, Rowena. Flitwick said you'd be out here for lunch. I couldn't find the Headmaster."

"He's out with the Minister today for lunch. The pub in Hogsmeade, I believe." They started walking away from a nearing snowball fight. Idly, Rowena began to pack her own snowball in her gloved hands. "Anything in particular you were looking for me?" Any word of Severus, she knew, would have been relayed straight to Dumbledore, meeting or not.

"I was in Oxford two nights ago on business when I wandered by your family's home."

"Must have been some dark business to be in that area, Professor. And to be there at night…" She shook her head.

"Well, it does pay to be a werewolf sometimes," Lupin said with a slight smile. "But," he continued, "when I was there, I noticed that there was a light on in one of the second story windows. Now, I thought that you had said that you closed the place up, unless you have one of those spells that turn on random lights when no one's home…" He trailed off when the color ran from her face.

"No," she whispered. "I had those lamps removed ages ago." She swallowed hard before asking, "Was there any--"

"No mark has been reported. I asked around before coming."

She nodded, but was not relieved. "They don't send up the mark for cowards or traitors. Look how much fun it was finding Karkaroff and Regulus Black. No mark for them, either." She tossed the snowball away, brushing off her gloves. "I think I should go and check the place out myself."

* * *

Dumbledore insisted she take a few Order Aurors with her, as it could very be a trap. With this delay, and arranging a place to meet when they apparated, it was nearly dusk. The hurried conference by Flow network agreed to meet in an empty sewer 20 feet from the back of the house.

Moody suggested they wait until morning, which nearly got his head ripped off by Rowena. Now decided that she needed to be there, she was unwilling to dilly-dally. In the end, Rowena and Remus would meet Kingsley Shacklebolt, Moody and Tonks. Tonks would be left behind as a lookout, with the plea of silence. Rowena knew there were a few things in her home that would bite back when knocked over.

Rowena walked beside him as they made their way to the edge of the forest. "You know," she said, "I'm going to feel like an idiot if it's just some Puffskein that managed to set fire to itself."

Lupin tried to smile. "I'll eat it for you if it is and say it was a stray clabbert, if you like."

"Thanks, but neither taste all that good."

A few paces later, they passed the castle limits and felt the slight difference in the air around them, letting them know they could Apparate. "Kingsley said we'd be going to the sewer, right? The one right by the back gate?"

Lupin blinked. "Yes. How--?"

Rowena smiled. "I used to use that to go on dates during the summer. Father's study window looks out after the willow tree, so I kept to the wall, down the grate, out down the pipe to the next street over, and meet my dates in the park."

Lupin laughed quietly, shaking his head. "Naughty girl."

"Severus knew I did it. He showed me how. See you there." She disapparted.

* * *

Author's Note:

Thanks a bunch for the people who have reviewed so far. I really appreciate it. Feel free to leave an email address, so I can answer any questions. Just so you know, this story is probably AU now, because I destroyed it once already for OotP, I won't for HBP. The library computers blew up (metaphorically) so they still have my copy of HBP! Cries they said the problem could take awhile, so I get to type this up instead. Mesa was #17 of 4396! Guaranteed to get a copy day one! cries some more

Chapter 15 soon, and in total there will 22 and Epilogue.


	15. Ch15

Chapter 15: All people are your relatives, therefore, expect only trouble from them.

Although it was called Snape Manor, the 2-floor structure was hardly large enough to warrant the title. When it had been built in the 18th century, there had been a north wing attached, as well as a greenhouse. Amadeus Snape, a flippant Potion's dabbler, had blown it up experimenting one night in the lab.

After that, the family (now reduced by 8 members who had been sleeping in the adjoining rooms) decided to sell off the crater and land and keep the main building. The name hadn't changed, and there simply hadn't been enough money to buy the land back and the many public auctions, or to build the wing back up if they did manage to get it.

And, Rowena mused, there hadn't been enough Snapes to fill it up anyway.

With orders to try and be quiet, the group left the sewers to Tonks' supervision. Rowena led the way down the alley to the garden door, nodding when Lupin pointed out the light in the second-story window. There was no sign of anything amiss in the garden, the plants looked as dead as they always did in the middle of winter, save for a few evergreens still coated lightly in snow.

Kingsley, keys in hand (as they would alert both the persons inside and the Ministry for Magic that they were there) opened the side door and slipped inside. Lupin followed him while the rest waited, anxious. This was one part that Rowena had hated, but agreed to in the end. As far as she was concerned, she could had handled anything in there just as well as they. Albus, being a gentleman she could happily strangled sometimes, had insisted that she at least let them look around first.

After a few minutes, they both came out. "There's no one on the first floor, or cellars. Someone has used the Floo in the last 24 hours or so." Kingsley looked to Lupin for his report.

"I can't hear anybody moving around upstairs, either."

Moody shifted closer. "They could be waiting upstairs for--"

"Waiting for what?" Rowena snapped. "For two Aurors, a werewolf, and a sub-professor to show up? I'm going to check the rooms upstairs. You can stay downstairs if you feel _safer_." Taking a long candle out of her pocket, she lit it and opened the door.

"I'll go with you," Lupin offered, coming up behind her.

"Thanks, Remus. We'll have to search the entire floor, including the library."

"Why not start at the room with the light on and go from there?"

Rowena sighed. "Grandfather charmed the windows to switch themselves around randomly. He said it was bored with the view outside the library windows -- where he spent most of his time. No one has been able to switch them off." She pulled her cloak close about her. "Trust me. We've tried."

She led Lupin up the back steps and into the entrance of the manor. Gliding up the thickly carpeted stairs, she paused on the landing. Lupin caught up to her and saw the dilemma: with the thick carpet, there was no way to see any light from out from under the doors. The smell of the fire was too spread for Lupin to smell where it was coming from.

"Start at each end and work inward?" Lupin motioned with his hands. She nodded and stalked toward the end door. When she was there, they opened their respective doors and stepped inside.

As there was 5 rooms on this floor, Rowena figured that it would take 20 or so minutes to do the entire floor. All that would left after that would be the attic, which she would do alone. Albus would not be pleased if she ended up disemboweling one of the Order members.

She finished one cloth-covered room and moved onto the next: Severus's bedroom. She was rarely in here, as she had no need to be during the school year, and not enough stupidity to be caught in there during the summer. Everything was as she had left it, save for the layer of dust around the fireplace. There was also a large collection of greenish black feathers in the grate. Evidently something had nested in the little used chimney and would have to be removed. She made a mental note of it and gave the room one last look around. There was hardly anything to check, as there wasn't that much extra furniture. Severus hadn't really lived here since well before his teaching career started.

Lupin closed the second door with a muffled click, and as she listened, moved on to the third and final room.

She whipped around at a knocking on her doorframe a minute later. It was Remus. Pulling her head from the fireplace, where she had been trying to tell how high up the new resident had made house, she said, "You scared me out of--"

"Rowena," Lupin interrupted. "Rowie, I'm …sorry…I…"

She felt something tighten inside, but tried to ignore the feeling. "About what? What's got you…" She trailed off, noticing his pale face and nervous tongue licking his lips as he stepped closer to her, into the light from the candelabra she had lit.

"Not Sevi," she whispered. "No…not Sevi…"

* * *

As Rowena turned into the room, the first thing that caught her eye was the slowly dying fire in the hearth. Absently, her brain noted that there was half a log left to burn and none left in the tinderbox in the corner. Her conscious attention was focusing on the figure lying on the old throw rug.

The _unmoving_ figure.

"Rowena," Lupin said from the doorway as she moved slowly forward toward the prone figure. "I'm…"

She tuned him out, moving around the figure and kneeling with her back to the fire. Moving her hand, she ever so slowly moved the fabric away from the head, wand poised if they should move --

With a strangled noise, she tossed it back from Severus's still face. Dimly she heard Lupin talking to her, trying to move her away from the body. He didn't touch her, having enough sense to know better. She was grateful somewhere deep inside, as she would have drowned him in his blood or her own tears in that moment. Or both.

Looking closer, she could see the dried blood on Severus's clothes, the rug, on his skin. Half of his face was black and blue and swollen, looking doubly so when she put her hand to neck, half-wishing for a pulse, brushing his upturned collar.

She ran her fingers over the collar's fabric again, noting that one side was very thick in the interfacing, the other side thinner. Leaning closer, she inhaled deeply…and came back up, coughing. When she had caught her breath, she motioned Lupin closer. "I need your nose."

"Rowena, he's --"

She grabbed the front of his tattered robes and yanked him close. "I need your nose, werewolf, because mine isn't good enough," she said, her voice very soft and waspish. After a moment, she released him, and slumped back onto her heels. "I'm sorry, Remus," she whispered.

"What are you looking for?" he asked her as he straightened his robes.

"Wormwood."

Remus frowned, but complied. He nodded a moment later. "Very faint, but there. Why did--"

"You can call Moody and the others in. Voldemort isn't here and I'll need Kingsley's help in getting Severus ready to move."

Lupin looked up sharply. "Have you-"

"Call them."

"He's-"

"Call them." She smiled. "Then remember your lessons."

Lupin frowned, then suddenly his eyes opened wide. "You don't think-"

Rowena nodded. "Scoot."

He was almost out the door when he turned back. "What about the attic?"

Rowena looked up, face bland. "If any were stupid enough to go up there, they deserve what they got." She went back to examining her brother's prone form.

Lupin made sure to give the door a wide berth as he passed it.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Interfacing is that stuff they stick between layers of fabric to stiffen it. Most commonly in shirts around the button holes and collars.

I hope that little bit of Snape history is pleasing, I so tried to get something that sounded pre-OotP canon. Thanks for those who continue to read it!

Don't worry, there aren't going to be any spoilers for HBP! I got another heat wave, so I could type this up after finally getting my copy of the prince…Sighs…….huh? Oh yeah, typing…that's right. Please email me if you want to know where the quotes are from, and I'll do my best to get it emailed to you in the morning post.


	16. Ch16

**Chapter 16: First a person was hot, then with fever, then dead, then completely dead, then dead forever.**

Arthur Weasley awoke that morning to find his wife already up and calling for him, something about Floo's and some such, he wasn't sure. Throwing on his robes (front at the front for a change) he glanced at his watch--

--and collapsed back into bed. It was only 4am! Molly must have heard him, for she came barreling up the stairs. "Arthur, come on, get up now! The Headmaster wants you to talk to that friend of yours in the Floo Regulation department and he wants it done now, before everybody--"

"What friend?" he moaned.

Molly entered the room, hands on hips. "Now, really! It's not enough that I have had to get 6 boys out of bed for how many years, now you won't! Well, blame Fred and George for making me learn this one!"

Arthur scrambled out of bed before his wife got her wand out of her apron. Whatever that spell was, he had seen too many mornings with his boys grumbling about her abilities to want to be on the receiving end. "What does he need me to do?" he asked again as he straightened out his robes.

"He needs you to talk to that friend of yours over in the Floo department, Nodwell. Something about needing a connection from the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts and Snape Manor, and he wants it done before all the heavy traffic."

"They must have found Severus Snape, then," Arthur muttered, doing up buttons.

"But why not use the automatic connection to St. Mungo's if he's been injured?"

Arthur hurried down the rickety stairs, his wife following. "Either Dumbledore doesn't want the Ministry to know--" he stopped and looked back up at Molly. "Or You Know Who to find out."

* * *

The fire flared once, and Mad-Eye Moody stepped through, grunted and stepped back from the hearth. Kingsley followed after him and they both headed toward the Headmaster.

"Any surprises, gentlemen?"

"Beside the attic?" Kingsley asked with a small smile. "None. The place was deserted save for the Potions Master. No concrete proof that You Know You was there, unless Severus can give us a eyewitness account."

Moody was muttering about dark wizards in general. A moment later the fire roared again, releasing Lupin, who was hold up one end of a stretcher. Rowena Snape followed with the other end a second later.

Pomfrey hurried forward and gasped.

"He's not a pretty sight," Moody observed dryly. "I'm not even convinced he's even alive."

Pomfrey drew up along the prone figure and checked for a pulse. "No pulse," she reported, "yet no decomposing of the extremities, or drainage of blood to the lower body…" She looked up at Rowena. "Not the Draught? In this condition?"

"Desperate times, desperate measures, Poppy," Rowena replied as she and Lupin moved over to the ready bed.

"How much do you think he took?" Poppy asked, settling Severus onto the bed.

Rowena shrugged. "It looks like anything from 2 mg to 10. It all depends on how much he managed to swallow and was able to keep down. The stuff has a nasty bite-back." She thought for a moment, her fingers playing with the vial. "Best guess? About 8 mg, concentrated twice through. Been out probably 30 hours or so."

"Lucky it didn't kill him," Lupin murmured.

"I'm sure that it came close, too close for me to risk healing his injuries before he starts showing sides of consciousness." Poppy straightened up. "All I can do, Headmaster, is to clean him up and wait. I can't even heal the broken ribs in case I send him into shock. The way he is right now, I wouldn't even know if I did."

"And that would definitely tip him over," Rowena murmured, settling herself on the next bed. "I'll stay with him till he wakes up."

Moody and Kingsley, after expressing their best wishes, departed, for both needed to be places before their superiors started to ask questions. Lupin was the only one left behind. He looked her once over, noting the pale skin, bloodshot eyes and slight tremor. "Why don't you get some sleep?" he asked kindly. "I can watch over him and wake you when he starts to come out of it."

Rowena started to protest. "I have classes to take in a few hours. I can hardly--" She was overridden by the Headmaster.

"A most excellent suggestion, one that the professor will take you up on. Her classes will, of course, be taken by the other staff members."

Hardly a suggestion, more an order, she thought to herself. "Yes, Grandfather," she teased. "But I'm still doing that lecture tonight though. 8 o'clock."

Albus smiled and nodded.

* * *

Author's note: Yes, I know it's short, but it didn't fit into the rest of the last chapter very well, and it won't fit on top of 17.

Merci to Silverthreads, villette ,noctu, assyria and duj for reviewing it. And thanks to anywho whose read it but, due to a forgetfulness potion, has yet to review.

Cheers!


	17. Ch17

**Chapter 17: It is unethical to cause harm. I can inflict as much pain as I want.**

The Puffskeins were bouncing up and down the stairs, giggling to themselves. Again and again they bounced until one stopped and said, "You should wake up now, he's starting to come around."

With a start, Rowena opened her eyes and just as quickly closed them. "Bright," she complained.

"It's 4:30 in the afternoon," Lupin explained, helping her up.

"Still too bright," she said, shading her eyes. "How is he?"

"He's not really awake, more just moving a bit every so often. He should be waking up soon, though." He motioned to a small bedside table. "But there is time for a quick meal."

"I'm not really--" she said, then stopped as he pulled the covers off the food. "But if there's snitch food…" she trailed off, eyeing the grapes and assorted dishes.

"How about a little of everything? Just to tied you over?" Remus suggested.

"Once around sounds good," Rowena agreed, settling down to start in. "Anything you'd recommend?"

"Well," Remus hedged, inching up a chair, "the cheeses…."

"Ah-ha!" Rowena exclaimed. "You and cheese. I always wondered who it was when the trap bait went missing."

Lupin smiled sheepishly, then changed the topic. "Speaking of traps, you might want to put a few out those rooms we checked. Those carpets have seen better days."

"Those carpets are older than you and I put together," she retorted around a mouthful of cheese. "Plus Sevi," she added, swallowing.

"Why not replace them? Or even just tear them out? You've got good solid hardwood underneath."

"Because, Remus, most of the family's wealth was in our collections, not liquid asset. Besides, the Snapes have always been packrats. Classy, well mannered, high taste, yes; but pack rats none the less."

"Waste not, want not," the other murmured.

"There is a limit, though." She laughed. "I think we reached it decades ago."

He smiled. "Judging by Severus's office, I'd have to agreed with you."

"If it was anything to do with potions, he has it. Sevi doesn't even have enough space for his collection. He's been after Albus to left him knock out a wall into an unused classroom for a while." Shaking her head, she resumed her picking at the tray in front of her.

"Why do you call him 'Sevi'?" Lupin asked curiously. "James tried it a coupled of times and nearly ended up in the hospital wing, and that was only in the first week of school."

Rowena smirked. "He got off lucky, then. I'm the only one who gets away with it now."

"But why?" Lupin persisted. "He's not exactly pleased when I've seen you use it."

"Oh, he hates it," she agreed, "but it just isn't the ….well, it just doesn't seem right otherwise. Our Great Aunt Bethilda used to always say, 'Well, aren't you spurting up, Sevi-darling.' And she said the same thing to me."

"How cute."

"Well, being the little rascal that I was, I picked up 'Sevi' and for love nor galleons wouldn't give it up. The more he ignored it, the more I used it. I tried to get him to shorten my name, fair's fair, but he wouldn't do it.

"About ten years ago I started to use his full name, but after a few shots he just glared at me whenever I did, so I flipped back to 'Sevi'. He just grumbles once in a while now."

"Got used to it, I suppose."

She smiled a bit sadly. "I suppose," she agreed, moving away from the table and settling down by the topic's side. "You awake yet, you?" she murmured.

A slight frown was all the response she received. Gently checking his pulse, Rowena frowned as well. "Remus," she asked, "would you go and get Poppy? It seems he's decided to join the living."

* * *

With Rowena's help, Madam Pomfrey started in on the various injuries. They started with the chest by first cutting away the shirt and undershirt without disturbing the puncture holes. Pomfrey took a closer look at this particular injury before deciding that the lung been punctured once, and only shallowly, allowing the lung to stay inflated. Bits of shirt and blood had entered the wound, making a crude bandage of sorts that had to be removed before any healing could begin. 

While Poppy tended the most serious injures, Rowena attention was focused on a set of bruises on her brother's neck and shoulders. By the patterning, it looked as though a fist had repeatedly struck the same spot. There was a pattern in them, which looked like one of the fingers had a ring on it, with a stone or other hard object set lengthwise along the band. It looked vaguely familiar. "Poppy," she asked, voice abstract, "do you recognize this pattern in the bruises?"

Poppy leaned in close and nodded. "Yes, it was the same type as the one that broke his nose over the Christmas holidays. Same indentation."

"I thought so, too. Sevi must have really gotten on that guy's bad side."

Rowena nearly hit the ceiling when Albus said softly into her ear, "How is our professor doing?"

"Better," she said, regaining her composure. "Where'd Lupin go?" Poppy had sent the werewolf out onto the grounds to get the Headmaster, who had been inspecting part of the forest with Hagrid.

"He had business for the Order to attend to." Albus looked down at the patient, who was now dressed in a set of dark gray pajamas, an unusual sight. "I don't think I've seen him out of black in nearly 10 years," Albus continued. "He used to have one dark green shirt, but Severus only wore it once. Minerva and I thought it looked good on him, and told him so."

"Probably burned it, then," Rowena observed.

A low moan interrupted them as Poppy began to heal the broken bones in his fingers. These were the most difficult to heal, as they had to retain the flexibility that they had once previously enjoyed. Severus would raise hell if his hands weren't expertly repaired, the rest of his injuries be darned.

Rowena settled herself on the bed's edge, watching the black eyes slowly open as much as the swelling permitted. "Good afternoon, Sevi-darling," she teased him when his eyes met hers.

He tried to speak, but nothing but air emerged from his dry throat. Swallowing, his eyes wandered to the side table.

"Water only," Poppy said, noticing where Snape was looking.

Raising his head, Rowena helped her brother to take a few sips before lowering him back down. "How long-" he tried to whisper, his voice still hoarse and jaw only newly mended.

"Have you been in Hogwarts? Almost a day. Have you been out? Nearly 48 hours, by my reckoning, long enough for me to want to kill you for the risk. Have you been gone? 5 days. Are you going to be staying here in the Hospital Wing? Until Madame Pomfrey gives her consent you can leave or until Muggle hell freezes over." Rowena smiled. "Any questions?"

Severus gave her a faint smile, and shook his head slightly. He knew better than to argue with her at the moment, not when Pomfrey would take her side as well.

After assuring the two professors that Severus was in capable hands, Madame Pomfrey began to shoo them out. "Out, the both of you. I need to get the rest of his wounds looked after and I can't very well do that with you hanging over my shoulder." As the two were almost out of the room, Poppy's voice drifted back to them. "Professor, watch the wand with your eyes, without moving your head…."

"The middle one, Sevi," Rowena murmured to herself as the doors closed. Albus gave her one of his patented looks over the rims of his glasses.

"I believe you have a few hours to get ready for your lecture, Professor?"

She smiled wickedly. "Oh yes, the 'Ministry approved package of information we deem you can handle'." She looked sideways at the Headmaster as they walked to the Entrance Hall. "Fudge did say I could edit it a bit, didn't he?"

Dumbledore smiled and nodded.

* * *

Rowena walked down the corridor, her elation fading from knowing that Severus would be fine. A small part of her kept whispering that this was her fault. Of course, the rest of her mind knew plain well that this was utter nonsense, but there was no silencing that small nagging voice. 

She barely noticed when she entered her rooms. After a quick shower, she sat at the vanity mirror, brushing out her long wet hair, immersed in memories.

She'd known before her parents that Severus had joined the ranks of the Death Eaters. She was only 10 years old at the time, but her mind had grasped what it meant and had quickly jumped headfirst into the wrong conclusion. She had been an extra big pest to her brother that week, she remembered, and when he had stormed out of the house that night with Lucius Malfoy, she'd been perversely happy to have been the reason for his bad mood.

When he hadn't come home by her bedtime several hours later, she was a little bit disappointed. He always said goodnight to her, even though she was ten now, and much too big for that stuff.

When Severus did come home at 5am, clutching his arm and chalk white, the first thing he saw was his baby sister, stuffed toy and blanket in hand, curled up on the stairs waiting for him.

She'd seen him come home several more times before the start of her first year, beaten and battered, and her young mind had concluded that she had driven him to it.

Now, many years later, she knew that was rubbish. A child could no more have stopped her brother from joining a group who appeared to, for the first time in his own young life, appreciate his talents, than a Muggle child could keep their parents together after both had decided on a divorce.

Looking into the mirror, she knew that she would do her damnedest to keep others from feeling that swell of guilt when she had first set eyes upon her brother's broken form.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

I hope this answers your concern, duj, back from the earlier chapters. This was the best place to put it in, so here it goes. Many children do feel responsible for things that are in no way their fault, especially when it concerns older siblings or more strongly, parents.

Thanks for the reviews so far. Almost done!


	18. Ch18

**Chapter 18: Challenge your preconceptions or they'll challenge you**

The lecture hall was filled with NEWT classes of History of Magic and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry looked through the gathering crowd, spotting almost all of the remaining DA members. He also noticed that several younger Slytherins had invited themselves to seats in the back rows, muttering to each other in dark tones.

"Welcome to the History of the Death Eaters," Rowena Snape called out, bringing the class's attention to her rather than _Witch Weekly_'s latest hair potions. "Unfortunately, those of you who are not in either History or DADA have to leave now, or have your faces turn a nasty shade of lime green. You won't even be able to hear anything, with the Selective Listening Charm on the room."

She waited while the group of them slithered their way out, grumbled complaints of "we're old enough!" in their wake. Smiling, she closed the door on the last of them and turned back to the class.

"Well. The Death Eaters. Work for Lord Voldemort. Killed a lot of people. That's all the Ministry thinks you need to know." She walked around the room as she continued. "The Headmaster and I agree that you would probably get more information from the tabloids. That's why this lecture is going to cover a lot of ground that the Ministry does not believe you, as minors, are able to handle. If anyone believes that their mind is going to explode or ooze out of their ears in the next 2 hours, please feel free to see Madame Pomfrey immediately."

No one moved.

"Let's get down to business, then. Question one: what do you know or have heard about them? No names, please, just information or rumors."

Slowly answers came in, everything from the obvious ("They wear black robes."), to the outrageous ("They're all Vampires!").

"Alright," she said a quarter of an hour later. "That is a very interesting picture you all have of them, but not that far off the mark, as it goes, but at last check, Lord Voldemort is the only semi-dead member. Yes, they kill/torture Muggles. Yes, they shoot the Dark Mark into the sky after they have murdered. Yes, they do look like Grim Reapers with wands.

"However," she continued. "They are not soulless. The Dementors affect them just as much as the rest of us. They are mortal, as the Auror's have thankfully proved. Over a quarter at the end of the last war were thought to be women."

Several students looked shocked at the number. She asked, "Show of hands, how many of you think the men were more deadly?"

Three quarters of the room went up.

"Females?" A few.

"Equal?" A few more.

"Alright. Mr. Malfoy, why are the males more deadly?"

Draco smirked. "It's obvious. They're stronger, more powerful, and more resilient to curses."

Rowena refrained from rolling her eyes with difficulty. "Mr. Potter, why are the females more deadly?"

"They are quicker, more agile, use their brains, and don't let the curses hit them."

Rowena nodded, and turned to Hermione. "Statistically, which are more deadly?"

"Females," she replied promptly.

Rowena let that wander through the class for a moment. "Women were more deadly. There are the reasons that Mr. Potter gave us and a few more. When chosen to serve, they had to be better than the others, or the competition would kill them. If they were ruthless killers, Voldemort would give them to the older Death Eaters, in hopes of one of them siring the next generation of followers."

She paused, then, smiling, posed the next question. "Can anyone think of any good things that came from the Death Eaters?"

Silence. Students looked at one another, shocked. Even Granger was quiet, no doubt running through all the books she had digested.

"Nothing? Your devious minds can't come up with a single thing?"

"But … they killed people," stammered Dean Thomas.

"So did King Arthur, yet we revere him."

The students still looked shocked that she could suggest such a thing. Slowly, a hand in the back went up. "Mr. Longbottom?"

"Better dueling techniques?" he squeaked.

"Beautifully put. 10 for Gryffindor. Dueling improved. Why? Survival on both sides. Voldemort had assembled the best duelers he could find, then trained them to be better, even better than the Aurors. In the first five years of the terror, the kill ratio was 14 kills to every Death Eater -- before they received their first serious injury." She let that depressing thought sink in.

"The more kills, the higher the rank, the less Voldemort was displeased with you. If you were a Death Eater, you really didn't want him displeased with you. He did not forgive easily, or lightly."

* * *

Author's Note: Short Chapter time again. It might be a bit before the next one, as they need heavy editing. I'll be at the Leaky Cauldron if anyone needs me.  


	19. Ch19

Author's Note: This is another spot where the warning appears. Just so ya know and you can't scream at me... :)

* * *

**Chapter 19: Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome.**

Rowena was sitting beside her brother when he slowly awoke. They stared at each other for a time, neither wanting to break the silence or the peacefulness both felt in the late afternoon light.

They were very opposite in nature, Severus realized slowly. When she was belittled, he stood tall. While he had little patience with the students, she seemed to truly enjoy their company. When he had acted rashly in his youth, she'd had her future planned out since she was 9.

Their father, while taking a firm hand in Severus's upbringing, had been very lax in regards to his daughter. He had allowed his wife to try and raise a puffskein, all prim and proper, with little lace cushions and fancy fans to hide behind. Severus remembered one time he had caught his sister taking those fans and trying to hurl them, like a discus, into a target. Her reason: in case a boy ever dared to come near her.

Of course, these memories only served to remind him how very differently driven they had been, he to escape the family, she to embrace what was rightfully hers.

"What are you musing about?" she asked, breaking into his thoughts.

"How we act like an old married couple."

She sniffed. "No wonder Voldemort snapped your jaw, with that barbed tongue of yours. What did you say to get him spitting mad?"

He winced slightly. "I don't know what you mean."

Rowena smiled humorlessly. "Voldemort likes his toys to beg and scream. You must have said something that really set him off."

Snape looked away, but answered her. "Remember an old rhyme? From that story about the sphinx you used to read?"

She smiled nostalgically. "The one that I used to beg you to read over and over? What does--?" She nearly shrieked with laughter when it finally dawned on her.

The Sphinx would challenge each puffskein in turn to find him a riddle that he couldn't answer. The Sphinx had had quite a meal of the losers by the time the last puffskein had come forward. Always the same line to announce its challenge:

_Riddle me this_

_And riddle me that_

_An impossible question_

_And I won't get fat!_

"I didn't quite get it all out, but it seemed appropriate at the time." Severus watched as she doubled over, silently laughing. Once she had calmed down and wiped away a few tears, he asked, "Are you going somewhere tonight, sister?"

The mood between the siblings changed immediately. No longer just brother and sister, there was an air of business about them, similar to whenever Lucius was around the Minister at a social gathering.

"Why do you say that, Sevi?"

He raised a bandaged hand from the sheets to encompass her dress and jewelry. "That is hardly the dress to wear in a classroom that is frequently demolished by Gryffindors," he said lightly.

"I've been invited to another Ministry function, can't turn it down." She straightened her gloves slightly, not looking at him. He could see an odd glint in her eye, not unlike the look that came into Potter's eyes when he decided to take things into his own hands, laws be darned.

Before he could question her further, she leaned forward and kissed his check lightly, with a whispered, "Remember to take your potions," and was gliding down the hall.

* * *

After several unsuccessful tries, Albus Dumbledore found himself outside the hospital wing, wishing that he would find the person he was looking for. He wasn't surprised, though, when he did not find them there, either.

"Are you looking for someone, Headmaster?" Poppy asked, coming out of her office, watching as the Headmaster wandered up the ward.

He shook his head as his eyes came to an uneasy rest on the bedside table of her only occupant. Severus was currently under several potions a day to combat the various injuries, the resulting in him being unconscious a great deal of the time. He looked, the Headmaster noted, to be in less pain now that he was safe under Poppy's care.

Moving forward, he took the scrap of parchment out from under the plain black stone and read the short note.

_Have been invited to another gala. It would be dishonorable to refuse._

_--Rowena Snape_

"She left that there around 8:30," Poppy said from behind him. "She was all dressed up, too, black velvet dress and cloak."

"Of course."

* * *

Rowena checked her make up one last time, adding a new layer of eyeliner and lip-gloss before putting mirror and make-up away in her purse.

The door pages opened the entrance as she approached, silent and obscure. The huge hall opened up before her, couples dancing to one side, tables laid with exquisite fair to the other. Groups were scattered about, talk reaching her ears of the latest scandal to Quidditch.

Making her way across the floor, she made sure to catch the eye of several people in each area. Dressed as she was in a sleeveless black gown, black cocktail gloves and small gems in her hair, it was only a matter of a look here, and a promising smile there. She joined a group of ladies, and chatted easily, although later she couldn't recall the topic. Half an hour later, she was hanging on the arm of a wizard from the Ministry, an hour after that, dancing with the Minister for Magic himself. He wasn't that bad a dancer, she mused afterwards, but she'd had better.

Over the night, she had caught sight if five of the 'old crowd': Lucius's sneer, thug 1 and 2, Avery eating only the choice cuts and MacNair was acting as a bodyguard.

As the second to last dance was finishing, Rowena noticed two more off to one side: Nott and Dailev. After touching up her make-up a bit, she moved quietly through the groups, coming up beside Narcissa Malfoy. The blond was standing off on her own, Lucius having just caught the ear of the Minister and was guiding him away.

"Hello, Miss Snape," she greeted loftily.

"Mrs. Malfoy," Rowena said courteously. "Enjoying yourself?"

Narcissa sniffed and caught Rowena's glance at the pair of men. "You've been dancing?"

Rowena nodded and glanced again. "Yes, but only twice. No one else has asked."

"Nott's not bad," Narcissa commented.

Rowena restrained herself from rolling her eyes. Come on… she thought. "It would be like dancing with my own father," she complained softly.

Narcissa laughed a bit, then suggested Dailev.

Rowena blushed a bit. "I doubt he would ask me, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Ask him."

She gave a little gasp and looked at the older woman in shocked surprise. "I thought that a lady--"

"He is _family,_" Narcissa purred, leading the way over to the pair. The final dance of the night was just starting and the dance floor was filling up quickly. "Would do the honor of dancing with Miss Snape, Dailev? She doesn't have anyone to show her what a good dance is supposed to be."

By the feral grin on his face, Rowena could tell that there were several alternate versions of what Narcissa had just said running through his mind. Giving a small smile in return, she allowed herself to be led onto the dance floor.

As he took her hand, she noticed the jeweled rings on his fingers, the left with the class ring, the right with an oblong ring set into the gold band. As the music ended, Rowena let her smile become more inviting. Dailev kissed her once, a bit rougher than she'd have liked, before she slipped away from his grasp. With a parting smile, she slipped into the ladies waiting room.

"What did you think of him?" came Narcissa's voice.

Rowena finished wiping her mouth before replying, "Tastes terrible." Narcissa and several other ladies burst out laughing. Rowena smiled and applied a fresh layer of lip-gloss, touched up her hair and was just starting to straighten the seam of her gloves when a scream echoed out from the dance floor.

The group of ladies, who had been preening a moment before, rushed out of the room, Rowena and Narcissa in their midst. The scene before them was enough to make one the elderly matron's in front of them faint right away, caught by her younger daughters.

Dailev lay on the floor, convulsions racing up and down his body. There was a bloody froth coming from in between his lips and his eyes were rolled so back into his head that the whites were the only thing to be seen. He looked like a man possessed, a total opposite from the dashing man he had been less than ten minutes ago.

Rowena felt someone watching her. Glancing up from the two men who were trying to hold the injured man down, she saw Lucius Malfoy's hard eyes locked on her. She returned his gaze, face impassive, before stepping to the side to let the summoned healers through just as Dailev stilled.

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, and that Butterbeer was tast--yy! Chapter 20 is coming, but is currently under the chopping block. 


	20. Ch20

**Chapter 20: A wise man hears no evil, sees no evil, speaks no evil…and has no fun.**

Climbing the last stairs to the Entrance Hall, Rowena was a picture of footsore. Heels may well improve a lady's figure, she thought, but they never say that it was at the expense of her feet.

She was almost to the entrance of the dungeons when the voice she hadn't wanted to hear called after her: Albus Dumbledore. "Professor Snape? A word with you, if you please?"

"I'm tired, old man," she whispered without turning around or stopping. "In the morning."

She could feel the Headmaster reaching out a hand to touch her sleeve, to get her to turn around. Instincts on edge made her whip around, a breath later her wand at his throat. All weariness had left her wide-open eyes, eyes that were as deep and fathomless as her brother's.

"Don't," she whispered, arm steady.

"What have--"

She snorted, suddenly disgusted with the older man, and disappeared down the dungeon stairs, leaving the Headmaster in the Entrance hall. The old wizard knew better than to go down in the dungeons tonight.

* * *

Rowena did a wonderful job at hiding the next day, although, Dumbledore mused halfway down a darkening corridor, she would have called it avoiding, not hiding. He thought he had caught a glimpse of her in the afternoon rush, but with her slightly-less than average height and dress habits, he wasn't completely sure.

She had avoided his fire calls, and the elves had instructions from her not to be disturbed unless for an emergency. The Headmaster could have overrode this command, as he had the ability to do, but long experience told him that if a Snape was trying to avoid company, said Snape would not open up their problems under a forced summons. He had learned that the hard way with Severus over the past 15 years. The Potions Master would not be disturbed if there was something personal eating away at his mind, and no amount of open support, of a leant ear, would be appreciated until the man had come to some type of conclusion himself.

All his knowledge aside, Dumbledore needed to talk with the younger Snape before the Minister for Magic arrived after dinner. The topic: the death of a Death Eater. The Daily Prophet had had a field day with the story, with speculation running from a natural death to poisoning from Voldemort to assassination by a mistress to goblins to… Dumbledore had a pretty shrewd idea who was responsible for the man's death, but the reasons behind it were a little foggy.

The staff at breakfast were, of course, gossiping away about it. Adults they may be, but a good murder mystery was something that few would pass up.

"Headmaster," a voice said, coming up behind him. "We do need to have a little talk together, I think."

"Cornelius," he greeted as he turned around, "I was just thinking about you."

* * *

Severus was awake when Rowena eased into the Hospital Wing. A small tray of picked-at food lay on the table at the end of his bed, looking neglected.

"Hiding from someone?" he asked, as she looked back out of the ward before closing the door.

"Not eating much, yet, are you? You need to eat, catch up on your missed meals." Her heart wasn't in it, though, as she didn't look again at the meal, but rather wandered over to the bed beside his and began to play with one of the pillows. "Remember Jacobius?" she asked, changing topics.

Severus frowned slightly. "Too well. Why?"

Rowena shrugged, eyes only for the pillow. "I saw him the other day down Knockturn Alley."

A faint smirk made an appearance. "When's the funeral?"

"Now, now, Sevi, I can't just knock off those I don't fancy anymore." She laughed a bit, looking up. "Otherwise Potter would never have been born. Don't get any ideas," she added.

Severus gave her one of his few 'innocent' looks. "And don't," she continued, "give me that look you always gave to mother whenever our father's potion's ingredients went missing."

Rowena wandered over to the window, staring out onto the dark grounds. "Although," she admitted, "it must make pleasant day dreams for you."

"And not for you, sister?" His voice filled with fake shock, he said, "My little sister doesn't have a few individuals whom she would love to snuff out of existence?"

"It was a beautiful day outside today."

"Admit it, sister."

"Oh, fine. I am, however, much too lady-like to give in to such displays in public."

He sneered at her, but his heart wasn't in it. "What did you do?"

"Noth-thing!"

"Why do I find myself not believing that, sister?"

Rowena settled down on the chair next to his bed, legs tucked under her. She leaned forward and began to straighten the collar of his nightshirt. "You need to keep this lose for better-"

Irritably, he grabbed her hands and pulled them away from his collar. Locking gazes with her, he asked again, "What did you do?"

She stayed silent and met his gaze square-on. Try as he might, Severus had never been able to get past his sister's blocks; her mind remained a closed tomb to him for over two decades.

A knock at the front entrance of the hospital wing interrupted the staring contest. Rowena broke both Severus's gaze and his grip on her hands. Turning, she saw that Draco had come finally, and was waiting expectantly to be ushered in. "Come in, Draco."

As Draco strode into the ward, Severus leaned back into his pillows, a faint frown that deepened when his sister said, "I wanted to continue our discussion from before Christmas. I didn't feet as if we left it at quite the right spot."

* * *

Harry had been on his way to Gryffindor Tower via the long way (Ron and Hermione were in the middle of one of their rows, and he didn't want to be anywhere near them at the moment) when he caught a few words drifting out of the Hospital Wing. He stopped, listening despite himself as he heard 'servant', 'Lord' and 'Death Eaters'. Inching forward, he was just in time to hear Draco say, "But you're both Death Eaters! That's what--"

* * *

Rowena overrode Draco. "Your father knows nothing, Draco, save how to line the pockets of those who can best serve him and his causes, no matter their position in life."

Severus placed a hand on her arm, cutting off the old rant of the Malfoy's wealth before it got started. She calmed down a bit, nodded her thanks at him, and continued. "I will say it only once more, Draco. I am not a Death Eater. I have not, will not and shall not bend knee nor spine to that half dead leech."

* * *

"--to that half dead leech."

Harry nearly choked when he heard her say those words, especially with the amount of scorn that was verily dripping off them. The merely image of her crawling forward on her hands and knees was ludicrous, but…

Other voices brought his attention jarringly back to reality and scrabbling for cover of any sort. Cornelius Fudge and the Headmaster were making their own way down the corridor to the Hospital Wing, arguing quietly. So intent were they that neither noticed Harry tucked away in the corner, barely hidden.

Fudge, it seemed, had gotten the last word in, as he threw the large Hospital doors wide open and stalked inside, the Headmaster in his wake. As neither had thought to close the door behind them, Harry sunk back to the edge of the door, hoping to hear more of the discussion.

* * *

"You are something else entirely, aren't you, Miss Snape," Fudge said, right after her pronouncement.

A very subtle change overcame her, one that Fudge didn't see, but one Severus was quite aware of. She was sitting up straight in her seat, eyes fixed on the Minister, but that could have been simply her attentiveness to an important speaker. Severus knew that she was ready to either run from or attack the pompous man.

"What do you mean, Minister?" Her voice was very soft and very smooth, no threat to anyone.

"You're not special enough to be a part of You-Know-Who's circle. Just common riff-raff."

Severus had moved his hand back to her arm during this insult of sorts, and was glad he had; it seemed that his hand was the only thing keeping her in her seat and not drawing her wand. Her muscles under his grip were extremely tense as she said, "What are you saying, Minister? That is, of course, assuming that there is a point to all this?"

Fudge didn't register the drop in her tone, thought Severus, because the man continued in the same accusatory voice. "What do you know of Adam Dailev's murder?"

Rowena raised an eyebrow, the most her expression had changed since he'd entered. "Nothing outside of what the Prophet has coughed up. Why, should I?"

Fudge drew himself up, chest thrown so far out a few buttons looked in favor of popping out of his jacket. "You should. You, Miss Snape, were the cause of it."

* * *

Author's Note:

Hehe…I enjoy a good cliff now and then, there hasn't been that many. One last chapter and an epilogue and we are done, folks! **Dances a bit**

Um, I don't know when the next will be up, it lost a page one day, and it was the real ending of it, so I might be a while, I don't remember it all that well. **Shrugs**. Thanks anyway for your patience!


	21. Ch21

**Chapter 21: No matter how powerful the wizard, a knife between the shoulder blades will seriously cramp his style.**

There was a quiet gasp from somewhere, quickly stifled, though it seemed that no one beside the siblings heard it. Severus's eyes began to scan the room until Rowena, with the slightest motion of her hand, told him to drop it. She knew exactly where it had came from, he thought, and how long that person must have been there for.

"Are you accusing me of common murder?" she asked, voice very low and quiet.

"Of assassination!"

"Now, Cornelius --" Albus tried to interject a note of reason into the irate man.

"Headmaster, please." She held up a hand to forestall his comments. "I haven't been an active member for well over 4 years," she said to Fudge.

"That doesn't mean--"

"Do you think I would kill someone," she continued over him, ignoring the fact he had spoken, "without Guild approval or funds, both of which require one to be active?"

"You are listed at the Ministry as being a member for the next 25 years, recallable at any time!" Fudge announced, clearly thinking that he had made a closing point.

Wondering how the man had ever graduated Hogwarts, let alone becoming Minister for Magic, Rowena spelled it out for him. "I would have to make an announcement of my return, which would, of course, be forwarded straight to the Department for Magical Law Enforcement. I believe that they still give the Minister for Magic weekly reports, unless that has been changed since my days there."

Fudge was fumbling for words, an amusing sight. "You…er… you could…."

"Why," she continued in between pauses, "would I tarnish my family's reputation with an unauthorized kill? We've been scapegoats before for other, more wealthy, families. I refuse to allow that to happen again." Slowly rising, Severus no long holding her back, she made her way around his bed and approached the portly politician. "Unless you have irrefutable proof, Minister, I kindly suggest that you retract your statement and leave."

Fudge tried to say something, only to be overridden again. "This boy," she pointed to Draco, "now needs, due to your loose tongue, to have a meeting with my superiors." She stepped closer to Fudge, who backed up a few paces more, nearly putting him outside the Hospital Wing. She leaned closer to him and said, "I just hope that certain memories don't have to be modified. For the wizarding world's sake."

Fudge's face went white, no doubt imaging the scandal that would accompany a Malfoy being Modified. "I'm sure…sure that the boy will realize the …the gravity of the situation."

"I do hope so," she agreed, voice soft and girlish, reminiscent of Umbridge. "I would hate to see such a promising young mind be damaged. Memory Charms are difficult at the best of times." Her gaze wandered to Draco's still form, standing confused by the bed.

Fudge followed her gaze and swallowed once more. "Yes, of course not. I will leave this in Dumbledore's capable hands then." He replaced his bowler's hat on his head and practically fled down the corridor.

Dumbledore leveled her once look over his spectacles that clear spoke of 'we will discuss this at a more suitable time' and made his way calmly out of the Hospital Wing.

Rowena took a few deep breaths, readying herself for the second round. She stepped just outside the large doors before saying, "Come in. We need to talk."

* * *

Rowena stood to one side of the door and waited. There was a long pause, in which no sound could be heard, then soft footsteps broke it before --

"Potter," Severus hissed, trying to straighten up fully.

"Severus," Rowena scolded. "He is here at my invitation." She closed the doors and put up Anti-Eavesdropping spells before saying, "I don't want to give this lecture twice through, or interrupted."

"Hold on, what do you mean, 'at your invitation'?" Harry said, walking a bit further into the room.

Rowena made her way back to her brother's bedside. "Remember that test on the second unit? The one that you've been carrying around with you for over a month?"

"Yes, but what…?"

"I charmed it." She settled down, not on the chair, which she pushed out for Draco to sit down on, but on the bed beside Severus. With a casual flick, she conjured another chair for Harry and plunked it down at the foot of the bed.

Harry balked instantly at this, anger clearly written all over his face. "What do you mean, you charmed it? With what-?" He broke off at Severus's sneer, but it was his sister that answered him.

"Gryffies are so easy to manipulate," she murmured, then continued. "The charm was set so that you would find yourself attracted to certain conversations held by over-age wizards. If you had been in the Leaky Cauldron during Christmas, it may not have let you leave 'til last call, which is much past your bedtime." She leveled her gaze, so much like the Headmaster's, at Harry, as if trying to think the correct answer at him through his skull.

"About the Snapes?" he ventured.

She dipped her head in assent.

"Then why am I here?" Draco burst out sullenly.

She looked at Draco for a long moment, long enough for him to surely have thought better of interrupting her. When she finally spoke, she weighed her words carefully. "You are here, Draco, because there is a choice in front of you. If the notion of service does not appeal, which to many it does not, then there are many other paths open to you. If the power that Voldemort claims to offer is to your liking, in and of itself, then there is another … organization that would gladly take the talents you have and hone them into …into something **you** control, not what he would hold over your head."

"Sister," Snape hissed softly, "you delve into forbidden areas outside the blood."

"The old ways are not what they were, brother. I have seen that too clearly for the last 20 years." She sounded suddenly very tired. "Fresh blood, if you'll pardon the expression, is needed, otherwise we will die off, and the traditions and skills with it. That would, as Albus would put it, be the most terrible thing about it."

"Which side were you on the last time, _Professor_?" Harry interrupted as he clicked all the pieces together. "Or was it a matter of you paid the most for those 'talents'?"

Silencing Severus with a look, for he had been about to rip Harry apart, she answered the young man question. "We, as a group, are without permanent allegiance. They do what is in the best, or what they believe is in the best interest for their continued existence and, more so, for the good of the wizarding world."

"THEN WHY DIDN'T SOMEBODY STAB VOLDEMORT 20 YEARS AGO?"

Her voice dropped and became very cold and waspish. "Don't think we didn't try, Potter! We lost some of the best we had when that leach came to full power!" She looked at Harry more closely, then whispered, "But that's not what you meant earlier, was it, dear boy? You wanted to know where the Snape's stood in all this."

"Rowena Snape, our history--!"

"Is public record, brother."

"Then let him search for it for a decade or more to piece it together!"

Rowena smiled sadly and turned to Harry. "You wonder why my brother is the way he is. Call it a bid to return to past glories, an attempt, if you will, to redeem what was lost. You see, we clawed our way back once to a shadow of what we once were." She paused, head tilted at Harry, who had sat down during this. "But you already knew the breaking point, don't you, Harry?"

Harry looked into the black eyes in front of him, but saw the white page of Hermione's book. "Martinus Snape was in command of the Assassins Guild."

"No."

Harry blinked.

"It was Lenella Snape, his wife, who had command of the Guild. He commanded the Guard. Suffice it to say that the Snapes went out on a political and financial limb for James II and we lost. We were one of the best in our world, and it has been costly return to the favor of those who fell in behind William of Orange. Costly to keep the family alive and whole, I through our family's old profession, and my brother through other…methods." Severus looked away for her, hand absently moving toward the spot where the Dark Mark was branded.

"I won't bore you with the details, Harry, because, frankly, anything past the 1920's will comatose me. But it is still disturbing information, even if it is 'public'. I nearly got fired from Durmstang when a good percentage of the student body found out. As it was, I had to voluntarily retire at the end of the year. Several students had to have Memory charms placed on them, for their own safety."

"That was due more to the Dark Lord being only 5 years gone, sister, and the paranoia that was running rampart at the time," Severus abolished.

"I don't think you need to pay him lip service anymore, brother. His beating the stuffing out of you quite elegantly says 'you're fired'."

Draco looked at the two siblings before asking, "Why are you telling me this? I mean, you said something to Fudge about modifying my memory, so what's the point in this?"

"Fudge is an idiot," the siblings said in unison.

Rowena shot an annoyed look at Severus, who sneered, but quieted again. "I trust you both, for my own reasons, and believe that you can be trusted not to spread this around your respective common rooms. I think that you both can understand the gravity of this situation, and the consequences.

"You, especially, Harry, cannot forever be rapped in cotton swabs against our world. Draco may have been brought up to this type of thing, but you must become aware of what waits for you in the shadows. It will come out and bite, Harry, the first moment it even predicts weakness.

"For be assured, they will start to come out of the woodwork. The final battle draws near, and the Guild must take a side soon, or risk being on the edges, where the victor will turn and quarter them." She looked hard at Harry, not allowing him to blink or turn away. "I cannot tell you which side, Harry. They will choose the side they think is most likely to win and to allow them to continue their own traditions. I am not high enough in the political tower to be able to say, one or the other."

"Or active status?"

Severus snorted, but remained silent. Rowena ignored him and said, "I've never been inactive."

"The only way to be inactive, Potter, is to be one's grave."

"Something I hope will be a long time in the coming," Rowena commented, dryly.

"You will need to arm yourselves, both of you. Severus and I can only teach you such much. It will be up to you what you do with the information. Do you use it to the full extent, or, like so many others, do you only skim the surface in hopes of picking up useful tips?

"The final test is coming, and you cannot retake it in hopes of correcting your errors."

* * *

Author's Notes:

Okay, I hope that wasn't too bad. Epilogue is coming up next, then thanks. Oh, and to address one thing: I don't plan on a sequel. This started as a one-shot (blackbird messengers) that I got a couple of requests to update, so this is it. Rowie might come up in my other works, I sort of like her, fun to write at least.

Reviews for the poor? rattles link please?


	22. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_Cast your eyes on the ocean_

_Cast your soul to the sea_

_When that dark night seems endless_

_Please remember me._

Rowena was lying on the top of the Astronomy Tower, humming to herself when Severus found her. She had only brought one candle out, casting weird shadows over the floor. Leaning heavy on the side of the wall, he made his way wearily across the classroom.

"Still stiff?" she asked, craning her neck around.

He sneered. "I wouldn't be if you had stayed in the castle proper."

"It's quiet up here. I needed to think." She watched as he gingerly sat down beside her. Seeing his somber mood, she quipped, "And I like to be out of the doom and gloom of the dungeons."

He snorted softly to himself, but made no comment. After a time where both stared out, Rowena at the mirage of stars above and Severus at the darkening forest, she gently placed one hand on his arm, inviting him to break the silence.

"Why?"

She looked at him for a moment, then slowly sat up cross-legged in front of him. "It had to be done, Severus."

He looked momentarily startled at the use of his full name, enough that she could plow ahead without break. "I won't have the Snapes be thought of as easy marks, of greatness lost to time. We have worked too hard for them to pick us off like cattle left to graze in the high pastures." She turned her face away. "I don't want to see you knocked off, either, big brother," she said quietly.

He turned to follow her gaze. "I thought I was supposed to be the one to protect you," he said quietly, voice tired.

She smiled a bit. "Oh, but you do."

He snorted and stood, albeit slowly. "From what? Rabid puffskeins?" He paused, back turned with his hand on the railing back down the stairs. "Out of morbid curiosity," he asked, "how did you kill him?"

She smiled slightly, head tilted to one side. "I would have thought that Longbottom would have burned any curiosity out of you by now." She lay back down, staring upwards once again. "I put the Lung Dissolver potion mixed with arsenic into a lip-gloss. Gave him a thank you kiss for a dance. Wiped it off on a towel in the powder room with six alibis watching. Came out with them when Dailev had the nerve to make a scene."

He nodded. Opening the door to the stairs, he paused again for a second.

"Dithering is not a Slytherin trait, brother," she teased as she blew out the candle and joined him. "Definitely a Gryffindor habit."

Severus whirled around on the top step and nearly collapsed down the stairwell. Rowena caught him and held on until he was steady on his feet again.

"I was think of wandering over to Wales this summer. See a few sights." She steadfastly ignored his shallow breathing or the hand that went to the still tender ribs. "Maybe even by Easter, if you're up to taking your classes again. You know, get away from it all."

He nodded a little again. "That would be the safest path. I … I might join you in July."

Rowena nodded and the two descended into the castle proper.

* * *

Author's Final Notes: 

Please feel free to leave any comments (good or bad) in a review, even if it is just 'Hi, read it, bye'. I'd like to know how many people are reading it through.

A giant "THANK YOU" here for all the people, both on and on the Knight Bus over on for helping with this story. You all helped either pointing out where I went wrong, what needed to be explained, or shot down ideas that should never have seen the light of day.

A is for Amy

Assyria

Barb

Brick

Bufo viridis

Compass rose

Cosmic Black

Darkened Soul

Door

Duj

Emelie

Left hand of Destiny

Fishi

Ithilia

JE aka Yessina

Kamakazi Lentil

Lambrys

Noctu

NorthernComfort

Polaris

Pure Venom

Sergeant Majorette

Severinus

Silimay

Silverthreads

Siva

Thirteen Ravena

Tpetey

Trista

Villette1

Wiltana

Special thanks to Master Yoda, Artoo, and work. Yoda for the quotes, Artoo (my mom) for listening to the rambles and work for ignoring all the little notes tacked all over my cubicle.

Any questions can be sent to my most popular email slytherin4me yahoo . com (take out the spaces): will be answered promptly, or just wait for me in Diagon Alley, I'll be near the ice-cream vendor during the day, and playing in Knockturn Alley at night.

Ladyravena


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